LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS 

AT  URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

STEWART  S.  HOWE 

JOURNALISM  CLASS  OF  1928 


STEWART  S.  HOWE  FOUNDATION 


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H7436hl 


Illinois  HlCTOiWf  SWIFT 


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1 849 


of 


AUTOSKETCHES,  RANDOM   NOTES 
AND  REMINISCENCES 


BY 


JOHN  HAMILCAR  HOLLISTER 


Chicago,  Illinois 
1912 


vS 


For  many  years  Dr.  Martin  and  I  made  it  our  custom, 
when  not  otherwise  engaged,  to  go  over  to  the  old  home  at  3430 
Rhodes  Avenue,  late  in  the  evening,  for  a  "just  before  bed- 
time" chat  with  the  dear  people  there.  Almost  invariably  we 
found  them  seated  before  a  bright  open  fire,  my  father  reading 
aloud  from  some  big  book  —  nothing  frivolous,  mind  you  —  and 
my  mother  fashioning  a  dainty  gift  from  ribbon  or  from  a  bright 
bit  of  worsted  for  some  loved  friend.  Often  our  conversation 
turned  to  bygone  days,  and  so  interesting  was  it  and  so  varied,  that 
over  and  over  again  I  exclaimed  "Papa,  why  don't  you  talk  this 
into  a  phonograph.  I  shall  forget  it  all  and  some  day  I  shall  want 
it  so  much!" 

Then  one  fall,  the  fall  of  1908,  came  a  season  of  great  mystery  — 
a  dropping  of  newspapers  over  unknown  somethings  in  unexpected 
places  and  a  hasty  pushing  aside  of  innocent  looking  bits  of  paper. 
As  a  result,  I  received,  that  Christmas,  a  square  white  box.  In 
it,  neatly  typewritten,  were  sixteen  chapters  of  "Memories." 
Each  chapter  had  been  tied  by  my  mother's  dear  fingers  with  a 
bright  scarlet  ribbon  and  a  sprig  of  holly,  and  I  need  not  tell  you 
that  of  all  the  gifts  of  my  life,  this  was  the  most  precious. 

That  was  our  last  Christmas  as  an  unbroken  family.  My 
mother  died  the  following  February,  and  in  his  great  loneliness  my 
father  turned  with  unanticipated  pleasure  to  the  continuance  of 
this  self-appointed  task.  Having  laid  aside  the  responsibilities 
and  duties  of  an  unusually  active  life,  he  now  found  that  this 
labor  of  love  was  indeed  a  blessing  in  disguise.  Many  were  the 
chapters  that  we  planned  for  future  writing  and  many  were  the 
sketches  outlined  to  be  filled  in.  Much  that  I  long  to  have  remains 
untold,  but  I  am  glad  there  were  pages  still  unwritten,  for  I  rejoice 


V 


to  think  that  he  never  felt  that  the  sands  of  life  had  quite  run  out 
while  work  yet  remained  for  him  to  do. 

In  his  manuscript  there  are  one  or  two  slight  inaccuracies  which, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  our  books  are  all  packed  away,  I  have  been 
unable  to  verify  or  correct.  These,  however,  are  trifling  and  unim- 
portant. 

His  medical  career  is  here  somewhat  briefly  touched  upon 
because  in  a  series  of  articles  which  he  had  recently  written,  and  to 
which  he  here  refers,  he  had  dealt  at  length  with  his  professional 
relations.  The  most  vital  period  of  his  life  seems  to  have  been 
that  of  the  Civil  War.  Over  and  over  again,  he  referred  to  the 
experiences  covered  by  those  crucial  years,  and  always  with  the 
deepest  Interest  and  intensity.  The  chapters  upon  African 
Slavery  were  written  during  the  summer  of  1910,  which  he  spent 
with  us  at  Midlothian.  All  day  long  he  would  sit  absorbed  in 
some  big  volume,  until  the  lengthening  shadows  would  have  tried 
younger  eyes  than  his;  and  early  in  the  morning,  upon  our  upper 
porch  in  the  treetops,  I  would  hear  him  clicking  away  upon  his 
little  typewriter,  as  he  copied  the  work  of  the  day  before. 

And  now  I  am  sharing  what  the  dear  hand  has  written  with 
you,  because  I  know  how  much  you  loved  and  respected  my  father 
and  because  I  hope  this  little  remembrance  of  him  will  prove  a 
real  joy  to  you.  It  is  the  last  effort  of  a  long  and  busy  life;  a  life 
singularly  simple  and  unassuming  in  itself,  yet  of  such  inspiration 
and  strength  to  those  about  him;  a  life  full  of  dignity,  earnest 
purpose  and  power,  yet  withal  full  of  hope,  happiness  and  love; 
a  life  fully  completed  and  rounded  out,  of  which  our  hearts  all  may 
say  "He  has  fought  a  good  fight,  he  has  finished  his  course,  he 
has  kept  the  faith." 


Hotel  Metro  pole, 
Chicago. 


foretooth 

THIS  little  book  does  not  aspire  to  pub- 
licity. It  is  written  at  the  request  of 
my  wife  and  children.  As  they  are  respon- 
sible for  its  production,  so  must  they  be 
for  its  imperfections. 

To  my  wife,  let  it  be  a  memento  of 
sixty  years  of  married  life;  to  our  children, 
Dr.  Franklin  H.  Martin  and  Isabelle  Hoi- 
lister  Martin,  a  Christmas  gift. 

CHRISTMAS,  1908. 


Contents 

CHAPTER  I 
ANCESTRAL  HISTORY u 

CHAPTER  II 
FAMILY  HISTORY 20 

CHAPTER  HI 
LIFE  IN  MICHIGAN 27 

CHAPTER  IV 
CHILDHOOD  MEMORIES 33 

CHAPTER  V 
SCHOOLS  AND  TEACHERS 40 

CHAPTER  VI 
SCHOOL  TEACHING 44 

CHAPTER  VII 
MEDICAL  STUDIES 49 

CHAPTER  VIII 
SEEKING  A  LOCATION 53 

CHAPTER  IX 

COUNTRY  PRACTICE 57 

CHAPTER  X 
MARRIAGE  AND  SETTLEMENT 62 

CHAPTER  XI 
REMOVAL  TO  CHICAGO 67 


Contents? 

CHAPTER  XII 
FIFTY  YEARS'  MEDICAL  PRACTICE  IN  CHICAGO     .     .     .71 

CHAPTER  XIII 
MEDICAL  TEACHING 76 

CHAPTER  XIV 
MEDICAL  SOCIETIES 80 

CHAPTER  XV 
CHURCH  MEMBERSHIP 83 

CHAPTER  XVI 
MISSION  SUNDAY  SCHOOLS      .     .     . 88 

CHAPTER  XVII 
THE  CHICAGO  FIRE 104 

CHAPTER  XVIII 
TRIP  TO  EUROPE 109 


Iconic latiD  lutings 

CHAPTER  XIX 
FIRST  VISIT  TO  CHICAGO 121 

CHAPTER  XX 
EXCURSION  TO  THE  MISSISSIPPI  RIVER 124 

CHAPTER  XXI 
VISIT  TO  EASTERN  COLLEGES 129 

CHAPTER  XXII 
SOUTHERN  VISIT — 1865 135 


Content^ 

CHAPTER  XXIII 

CENTENNIAL  EXPOSITION,  PHILADELPHIA,   1876     .     .     .   140 

CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  DISCOVERY  OF  THE  YELLOWSTONE  PARK      .     .     .   144 

CHAPTER  XXV 

THE  SAN  FRANCISCO  EARTHQUAKE 154 


African 

CHAPTER  XXVI 
AFRICAN  SLAVERY 165 

CHAPTER  XXVII 

BRITISH  EMANCIPATION 174 

CHAPTER   XXVIII 
SLAVERY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES 192 

CHAPTER  XXIX 

ABOLITION  OF  SLAVERY  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES        .     .216 

CHAPTER  XXX 
REMEMBRANCES  OF  MR.  LINCOLN 237 


of  Cf^t?  gears 


IT  has  seemed  to  me  desirable  to  perfect,  so  far  as  possi- 
ble, the  Genealogical  Records  of  the  Hollister  and 
Chamberlin  families,  with  which  I  am  connected.  To  this 
end  I  have  sought  their  records  from  various  sources  and 
recorded  them  at  length  in  our  Family  Bible,  a  brief 
synopsis  of  which  is  here  given.  Of  our  English  ancestors 
but  little  can  be  learned,  from  the  fact  that,  by  reason  of 
the  War  of  Independence,  so  alienated  were  the  colonies 
from  the  mother  country  that  few  of  our  American  families 
cared  to  maintain  relationship  with  their  kindred  in  England 
and  were  indifferent  as  to  the  records  which  might  relate 
them  to  their  ancestors.  So  far  as  I  have  been  able  to 
connect  our  families  with  their  antecedents  the  results 
are  here  briefly  outlined. 

THE  HOLLISTERS  IN  ENGLAND 

No  satisfactory  conclusion  has  been  reached  as  to  the 
origin  of  the  family  name.  It  appears  in  English  records 
as  early  as  1563  and  is  believed  to  be  of  Anglo-Saxon  origin. 
Numerous  families  of  that  name  were  located  principally 
in  the  counties  of  Gloucestershire,  Somersetshire,  and 
Wiltshire.  There  are  records  of  births,  marriages  and  deaths 


of  Cigfttp  Hearg 


in  these  counties  dating  from  1563  to  1677.  The  records 
also  show  that  some  of  them  were  men  of  means  and  were 
extensive  land-holders,  as  in  the  case  where  Lord  Berkley, 
in  the  sixth  year  of  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  sold 
one  fourth  of  his  manor  of  Almondsbury,  Gloucestershire,  to 
John  Hollister  and  others. 

In  the  language  of  Heraldry  the  Hollister  Coat  of  Arms 
is  described  as  follows: 

"Sable  between  a  greyhound  courant  blendwise  and  a  dolphin 
hauriant  in  base  Argent,  three  roses  gules  in  a  chief  of  the 
second  two  slips  of  strawberry  fructus  proper. 

"Crest:  an  arm  in  armour  embowered  holding  a  branch  of 
holly  proper. 

"Motto:  Fuimus,  et  sub  Deo  erimus." 

We  also  find  record  of  a  will  made  by  John  Hollister, 
merchant,  in  Bristol,  England,  dated  July  15,  1575.  The 
name  John  Hollister  was  of  record  frequently  previous  to 
the  time  of  the  arrival  of  our  ancestor  who  came  to  Amer- 
ica. From  which  of  the  families  he  was  a  descendant  we 
are  not  able  to  determine. 

THE  HOLLISTERS  IN  AMERICA 

John  Hollister,  the  Immigrant  from  whom  all  the  families 
of  that  name  so  far  as  we  know  are  descended,  was  born  in 
England  in  1612,  and  migrated  to  America  in  1642. 

From  the  prominence  to  which  he  soon  attained  it  is 
evident  that  he  was  a  man  of  culture  and  strong  personality. 
The  year  following  his  settlement  in  the  Connecticut  Colony 
at  Hartford  he  was  made  a  "freeman,"  and  the  next  year, 
1644,  he  was  selected  to  represent  Wethersfield  in  the 


OLD  HOLLISTER  HOUSE  AT  SOUTH  GLASTONBURY,  CONNECTICUT 


&nce£tral 


Colonial  Assembly,  and  continued  to  act  in  that  capacity 
at  nearly  every  session  for  ten  years.  He  made  additions 
to  what  was  known  as  "The  Naubuck  Farms"  and  there 
he  built  the  celebrated  "old  red  house,"  in  which  he  lived 
and  died,  and  which  remained  in  possession  of  his  descend- 
ants of  that  name  for  233  years,  until  in  1888  it  passed  to 
other  hands. 

That  he  was  one  of  the  foremost  men  in  social  life  is 
evident  in  that  Joanna  Treat,  whom  he  married,  was  the 
daughter  of  Richard  Treat,  Senior,  one  of  the  patentees 
named  in  the  charter  granted  by  Charles  II  to  the 
Hartford  Colony.  He  was  almost  continuously  elected  to 
official  positions  in  the  infant  colony  and  was  appointed 
Tax  Collector  also  for  the  support  of  students  at  Cambridge. 
Robert  Treat,  a  brother  of  his  wife,  was  Governor  of 
Connecticut  for  many  years.  Colonel  Hollister,  as  he  was 
called,  was  thus  brought  into  intimate  relation  with  the 
most  prominent  families  in  the  colony. 

In  his  church  connection  he  was  not  entirely  happy.  It 
was  an  unusual  thing  at  that  day  for  a  layman  to  with- 
stand and  antagonize  his  minister,  but  that  was  what  he 
did.  For  some  reason,  which  I  am  not  able  to  learn,  the 
minister  informed  him  that  he  had  excommunicated  him 
from  the  church,  whereupon  Colonel  Hollister  demanded  a 
copy  of  his  charges  and  a  hearing  before  the  church.  This 
was  denied  him.  The  result  was  that  a  portion  of  the 
church  members  withdrew  and  united  with  him  in  the 
formation  of  another  church.  As  the  new  organization 
included  the  names  of  a  number  of  the  most  prominent 
citizens,  and  also  that  of  the  Governor,  it  seems  evident 

13 


Jftemorieg  of  <6i0f)tp  liearg 


that  he  was  strongly  supported  in  his  contention.  That 
he  also  was  inclined  to  be  belligerent  is  apparent  from  the 
fact  that  the  report  made  by  the  Council  to  which  the  mat- 
ter was  finally  referred,  stated  that  in  their  view  both  of 
the  contestants  had  been  unwarrantably  rash  and  that  both 
were  amenable  to  criticism.  The  pugnacious  pastor  not 
long  after  resigned  his  position  in  the  old  church  and  sought 
a  pastorate  elsewhere. 

The  physical  prowess  of  Colonel  Hollister  is  well  indicated 
by  a  quotation  which  I  am  tempted  to  make  from  Chapin  's 
History  of  Glastonbury  for  Two  Hundred  Years,  in  which  he 
writes  as  follows:  "The  nearest  approach  to  hostilities  that 
has  come  to  our  knowledge  is  furnished  by  the  following 
tradition  in  regard  to  John  Hollister  which  has  been  sup- 
plied by  a  member  of  the  family  now  abroad.  While  Col. 
Hollister  continued  on  the  West  side  of  the  River  he  was 
accustomed  to  go  over  and  cultivate  in  Nauaug  unprotected 
by  company.  On  one  occasion  a  huge  stout  Indian  appeared 
before  him  saying  he  had  been  told  that  he,  Mr.  H.,  was 
the  stoutest  paleface  in  the  settlement  and  proposed  a  trial 
of  strength  in  a  fight.  Col.  H.  assented  and  at  it  they 
went.  After  engaging  in  a  conflict  until  each  was  exhaust- 
ed they  mutually  agreed  upon  a  truce  and  sitting  down  upon 
a  log  rested  themselves.  Having  recovered  breath  and 
strength  they  fought  again,  and  again  they  rested,  fighting 
and  resting  until  sundown,  when  neither  having  conquered 
they  exchanged  tokens  of  friendship  and  ever  after  lived 
in  peace." 

Colonel  Hollister  died  in  Wethersfield  in  1665,  aged  53 
years.  His  wife  died  in  1694,  twenty-nine  years  later. 

14 


&ncegtral 


To  this  family  eight  children  were  born,  of  whom  John, 
Jr.,  their  eldest  son,  was  our  paternal  ancestor. 

John  Hollister,  Jr.,  was  born  in  Wethersfield  in  1644  and 
was  married  to  Mary  Goodrich  hi  1667.  He  was  one  of 
the  principal  men  in  Glastonbury,  Connecticut,  and  died 
there  November,  1711.  Seven  children  were  born  to  this 
family,  of  whom,  in  the  third  generation,  Thomas  was  our 
ancestor. 

Thomas  Hollister  was  born  in  Wethersfield  January  14, 
1672.  He  married  Dorothy  Hill,  of  Glastonbury,  and  died 
there  in  1741.  By  occupation  he  was  called  "the  weaver," 
and  held  the  office  of  Deacon  in  the  church.  To  this  family 
thirteen  children  were  born,  five  sons  and  eight  daughters, 
of  whom  seven  daughters  were  married  and  one  died  at  the 
age  of  seven  years  Of  the  five  sons,  Charles  was  our 
forefather. 

Charles  Hollister,  of  the  fourth  generation,  was  born  in 
Glastonbury  in  1701.  He  was  married  to  Prudence  Francis 
in  Wethersfield  in  1 7  29.  He  settled  in  Eastbury,  Connecticut, 
and  died  there  in  1753.  His  tombstone  is  to  be  seen  in  the 
old  burying-ground  in  Eastbury.  His  family  consisted  of 
nine  children,  seven  sons  and  two  daughters.  Of  these, 
his  third  son,  Francis,  was  our  progenitor. 

Captain  Francis  Hollister  was  born  in  Glastonbury  in 
1733.  He  married  Betty  McKee  in  1753.  They  resided 
in  Tyringham,  Massachusetts.  He  was  a  sea  captain  and 
died  in  Havana  in  1770.  They  had  seven  children,  four 
sons  and  three  daughters.  Of  these,  Abner,  the  oldest  son, 
was  our  ancestor. 

Abner  Hollister  of  the  sixth  generation,  was  born  in  1754. 

is 


of  <£igi)tp 


He  was  a  soldier  in  the  Revolution  and  was  with  Arnold 
in  his  march  to  Quebec.  After  Arnold 's  surrender  he  made 
his  escape  through  a  pathless  wilderness,  and,  after  suffering 
great  privation,  reached  his  home.  By  his  first  wife,  Sarah 
Betty  of  Tyringham,  whom  he  married  in  1775,  he  had 
twelve  children,  of  whom  my  father,  John  Bentley  Hollister, 
was  the  tenth  child.  For  his  second  wife  he  married  Eliza- 
beth Granger  of  Oneida  County,  New  York.  No  children 
were  born  to  them  from  this  marriage.  He  died  in  Cato, 
Cayuga  County,  New  York,  in  1813,  aged  59  years. 

OUTLINE  RECORD  OF  BIRTHS,   MARRIAGES  AND  DEATHS 

Born  Died 

1612      John  Hollister,  Immigrant 1694 

Married  Joanna  Treat 

SECOND  GENERATION 

1644      John  Hollister,  Jr. 1711 

Married  Sarah  Goodrich,  1667 

THIRD  GENERATION 

1672      Thomas  Hollister 1741 

Married  Dorothy  Hill 

FOURTH   GENERATION 

1701       Charles  Hollister 1753 

Married  Prudence  Francis,  1729 

FIFTH   GENERATION 

1733      Francis  Hollister 1770 

Married  Betty  McKee,  1753 

SIXTH  GENERATION 

1754      Abner  Hollister 1813 

Married  Sarah  Betty,  1775 
Elizabeth  Granger,  1802 
16 


&megtral  i^i 


SEVENTH   GENERATION 

1795 

John  Bentley  Hollister  .... 
Married 

.       1831 

1797 

Mary  Chamberlin,  1821 

1890 

EIGHTH   GENERATION 

1824 

John  Hamilcar  Hollister 
Married 

1911 

1827 

Jeannette  Windiate,  1849. 

1909 

THE  CHAMBERLIN  GENEALOGY 

In  the  above,  my  mother's  family  is  represented.  In 
treating  of  the  Chamberlin  history  I  am  mainly  indebted  to 
the  researches  of  Mr.  William  Chamberlin,  a  native  of  Dalton, 
Massachusetts,  and  for  some  thirty  years  or  more  before 
the  Civil  War,  a  merchant  in  Natchez,  Mississippi.  He  thinks 
that  our  ancestry  dates  back  to  the  one  who  held  the  posi- 
tion of  Chamberlain  to  William  the  Conqueror  when  he 
went  over  to  England.  Be  that  as  it  may,  I  am  only 
interested  to  trace  that  branch  of  the  family  now  so  nu- 
merous in  our  own  country  and  from  which  our  immediate 
line  is  descended. 

Joseph  Chamberlin  was  the  name  of  our  first  American 
ancestor.  He  was  of  English  antecedents,  bom  in  Wales, 
whither  his  father,  who  was  a  stanch  Protestant,  had  fled 
to  escape  the  persecution  so  intense  during  the  reign  of 
Charles  I.  He  was  born  in  1653,  m  tne  fourth  year  of  the 
Protectorate  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  and  lived  through  the 
successive  reigns  of  Charles  II,  James  II,  William  and 
Mary,  Ann,  George  I,  and  more  than  half  of  that  of  George 
II.  For  the  same  reason  that  their  father  fled  to  Wales, 
when  his  estate  was  confiscated,  three  of  his  sons  migrated 

17 


of 


to  America  in  1670.  Of  these,  Joseph,  our  progenitor,  was 
only  seventeen  years  old.  He  settled  in  Colchester, 
Connecticut,  where  he  lived  to  see  five  generations  of  de- 
scendants born.  He  died  in  1750,  aged  97  years,  respected 
by  all  who  knew  him.  He  was  married  at  Colchester  and 
reared  a  family  of  five  sons  and  five  daughters.  The  sons ' 
names  were  William,  Freedom,  Joseph,  Benjamin,  and 
John.  The  names  of  the  daughters  were  not  given.  Our 
line  descends  from  John,  the  youngest  son.  He  was  a 
farmer  and  resided  in  Pittsfield,  Massachusetts,  and  died 
there,  aged  85  years  His  son  Joseph  was  the  founder  of 
the  fourth  generation. l 

Joseph  Chamberlin,  the  founder  of  the  fourth  generation, 
was  the  father  of  four  sons  and  five  daughters.  The  sons 
were  named  Martin,  Jacob,  Gad,  and  Dan.  The  names 
of  the  five  daughters  are  also  given. 

Eunice,  who  married  Dr.  Abel  Kittredge. 

Lois,  who  married  Samuel  Baldwin. 

Abia,  who  married  Levi  Day. 

Saphronia,  who  married  Eliphalet  Chamberlin. 

Jerusha,  who  married  Smith  Parmlee. 

Gad  Chamberlin,  of  the  fifth  generation,  the  third  son  of 
Joseph  Chamberlin,  was  my  grandfather.  He  was  born 
in  Colchester,  Connecticut,  in  1770,  and  removed  to  Dalton, 
Massachusetts,  when  he  was  but  a  child,  and  there  he  grew 
to  manhood.  He  was  married  to  Lydia  Baldwin  of  the  ad- 
joining town  of  Windsor.  He  settled  first  in  Greenville, 
New  York,  later  in  Sangersfield,  then  Lima,  New  York,  and 

1  Both  the  second  and  third  generations  of  our  branch  of  the  family  were 
represented  by  John  Chamberlin.  My  father  realized  that  he  had  omitted 
one  of  these,  but  neglected  to  make  any  change  in  his  manuscript.  I.  H.  M. 

18 


in  1827  removed  to  Romeo,  Michigan,  where  he  died  in 
1846,  aged  76  years.  His  family  consisted  of  eleven 
children,  of  whom  Mary,  my  mother,  was  the  oldest.  Their 
names  were  as  follows: 

Mary,  who  married  John  B.  Hollister. 

Samuel,  who  married  Eliza  Collins. 

Platt,  who  married  Phoebe  Parkhurst. 

Addison,  who  married  Lydia  Leach,  and  Ann  Parsons. 

Electa,  who  married  Rev.  William  T.  Snow. 

Nelson,  who  died,  aged  ten  years. 

Julia,  who  married  Rev.  Luther  Shaw. 

Harvey,  who  married  Juliette  McKeen. 

Joseph,  who  married  Olive  Warren. 

Nelson  P.,  who  married  Hannah  Potter. 

James  B.,  who  married  Margaret  Chamberlin. 

Lydia  Baldwin  Chamberlin,  the  mother  of  this  family, 
died  in  Greenville,  Michigan,  and  is  buried  in  the  family 
lot  in  Romeo  beside  her  husband.  A  monument  to  their 
memory  has  been  erected  in  that  place. 

The  union  of  the  Hollister  and  Chamberlin  families  was 
consummated  by  the  marriage  of  John  B.  Hollister,  my 
father,  with  my  mother,  Mary  Chamberlin.  To  them, 
reference  will  be  made  in  the  succeeding  chapter. 

As  family  records  sometimes  become  of  special  interest 
to  later  generations,  it  has  been  a  matter  of  interest  to  trace 
the  genealogy  of  these  two  families  from  the  landing  of  their 
progenitors  in  America,  and  this  data  may  possibly  be  of 
service  to  those  who  may  come  after  me. 


CHAPTER  II 
FAMILY  HISTORY 

JOHN  BENTLEY  HOLLISTER,  my  father,  was  born 
*-*  in  the  town  of  Adams,  Jefferson  County,  New  York, 
in  1795.  His  mother  died  when  he  was  hardly  six  years 
old,  and  he  went  to  live  with  an  older  sister,  the  wife  of 
Rev.  Chauncy  Cook,  then  the  resident  minister  at  Pompey 
Hill,  near  Syracuse,  New  York.  The  Pompey  Hill  Academy 
was  then  one  of  the  most  popular  educational  institutions 
in  the  state,  and  there  many  noted  men  were  educated. 
My  father's  prominence  as  a  student  in  that  institution  is 
evident  from  the  fact  that  at  the  age  of  sixteen  he  gained 
the  highest  award  for  scholarship  at  the  annual  examina- 
tion. The  prize  awarded  was  a  standard  volume  of  John- 
son's English  Dictionary,  a  rare  and  somewhat  expensive 
work  at  that  date.  It  was  the  standard  authority  both  in 
Europe  and  America.  It  was  not  until  years  later  that 
the  first  edition  of  Webster's  Dictionary  was  given  to  the 
public.  While  he  was  a  proficient  student  of  the  lan- 
guages, he  was  especially  fond  of  mathematics  and  early 
became  an  adept  as  a  land  surveyor.  In  those 
days  there  was  a  very  great  demand  for  such  service.  At 
the  early  age  of  eighteen  years  he  had  chosen  this  for  a 
permanent  calling,  and  in  1818,  only  two  years  after  the 
close  of  the  war  with  England,  he  was  employed  to  fulfill 
a  contract  with  the  United  States  Government,  to  survey 
the  base  line  of  the  present  State  of  Missouri,  separating  it 


from  the  territory  of  Arkansas.  He  made  his  journey 
by  way  of  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi  Rivers  to  St.  Louis, 
then  a  mere  hamlet,  and  only  known  as  a  French  and 
Indian  trading  post  in  which  as  yet  few  Americans  had 
found  a  home.  From  here  he  was  to  penetrate  the  heart 
of  the  Indian  country  for  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles. 

Although  peace  with  England  had  been  declared  two 
years  previously,  the  war  spirit  was  still  burning  in  many 
an  Indian  breast,  and  the  invasion  of  their  hunting  ground 
was  ample  evidence  of  the  white  man's  future  intent. 
The  surveying  party  must  needs  be  well  armed  and  strong 
enough  in  number  for  self-defense.  His  company  con- 
sisted of  thirty  men.  Fully  armed  and  equipped,  they  set 
out  from  St.  Louis  with  their  pack  train,  following  the  West 
bank  of  the  Mississippi  to  the  territorial  line,  where  they 
began  the  original  westward  survey.  He  had  in  his  com- 
pany as  wiry  a  set  of  men  as  only  the  wild  west  could  pro- 
duce, and  every  man  was  doubly  armed.  After  my  father's 
death,  when  I  was  but  seven  years  old,  my  mother  used 
from  time  to  time  to  recount  many  of  his  experiences  as  she 
had  learned  them  from  his  lips,  and  these  are  among  my 
most  abiding  memories.  To  a  few  of  them  I  will  briefly 
refer.  The  question  of  subsistence  was  one  of  the  chief 
concerns.  When  once  these  thirty  men  had  cut  loose  from 
their  base  of  supplies  it  was  not  long  before  their  bread 
supply  was  exhausted.  Beans,  a  limited  amount  of  flour, 
and  the  various  kinds  of  wild  game  of  every  sort  were  to 
be  their  main  reliance.  One  man  of  all  the  company  came 
to  be  named  the  "mighty  hunter,"  and  slight  as  the  chances 
might  seem  to  other  eyes,  he  never  failed  to  round  up  an 

21 


of 


ample  supply.  Another  serious  question  was  that  of  water 
in  those  hot  summer  months.  The  tributary  streams  that 
fed  the  Arkansas  were  sometimes  far  apart  and  the  ravines 
and  swamps  were  so  thoroughly  dried  that  the  party  often 
suffered  from  extreme  thirst.  Once  their  lives  were  in 
great  peril.  They  had  occasion  on  their  route  to  pass  over 
an  extended  ridge  of  prairie  which  lay  between  them  and 
the  next  waterway.  They  had  been  misled  as  to  the  dis- 
tance, and  for  three  days  they  were  compelled  to  make  a 
forced  march  under  a  burning  sun,  without  a  drop  of  water 
to  slake  their  thirst.  Their  tongues  became  too  much 
swollen  to  be  retained  within  their  mouths,  and  bled  from 
overpressure  upon  their  teeth.  They  finally  came  upon 
a  ravine  and  from  the  moist  earth,  little  by  little,  succeeded 
in  gaining  enough  water  from  the  oozing  mud  to  save  their 
imperiled  lives.  It  was  my  father's  impression  that  if 
they  had  come  upon  a  full  supply  of  water  at  once  they 
might  have  died  from  its  excessive  use.  That  experience 
was  never  to  be  repeated.  Ever  after,  outriders  were 
sent  to  locate  their  water  supply. 

Another  not  so  serious  experience  befell  them.  The 
tall  prairie  grass  was  a  constant  and  serious  impediment. 
If  it  could  be  swept  away  by  fire  this  hindrance  would  be 
removed,  and  besides,  the  time  had  come  when  the  wily 
Indians  might  so  encompass  them  with  fire  as  to  threaten 
their  lives.  One  day,  when  the  wind  seemed  favorable 
for  their  purpose,  the  grass  was  set  on  fire;  and  none  but 
those  who  have  been  eye-witnesses  can  comprehend  the 
meaning  of  a  prairie  fire.  For  a  time  all  went  well,  but 
soon  the  wind  changed  and  blew  directly  toward  their 


f  amiip 


camp,  which  was  pitched  upon  the  bank  of  a  stream 
several  miles  away.  By  a  circuitous  route  they  made 
their  way  as  best  they  could  to  the  place  of  their  encamp- 
ment, only  to  find  it  a  smoldering  ruin.  Many  of  their 
valuables  and  most  of  their  supplies  had  been  destroyed  in 
the  flames.  But  these  were  minor  losses  compared  with  the 
value  of  my  father's  field  notes.  By  a  wise  forethought, 
happily,  these  had  been  preserved.  Had  they  been 
destroyed  his  summer's  work  would  have  gone  for  naught. 
His  unique  precaution  saved  him  from  this  loss.  He  seemed 
to  have  an  intuition  that  some  misfortune  might  befall 
the  camp,  by  fire  or  other  mishap,  and  so  he  made  dis- 
position of  his  surveys  as  follows:  the  topographical  maps 
and  field  notes  were  first  wrapped  in  oiled  silk,  then  folded 
in  a  rubber  cloth  to  insure  against  dampness,  and  then 
again,  to  secure  against  fire,  they  were  wrapped  in  a  green 
buffalo  hide  prepared  for  that  purpose.  This  hide  was 
charred  to  a  crisp  but  the  contents  were  safe. 

Upon  this  line,  which  formed  the  boundary  between 
the  Missouri  and  Arkansas  territories,  the  future  sub- 
divisions of  Missouri  were  to  be  based.  This  was  the 
first  of  like  invasions  upon  the  Indian  territory  beyond  the 
Mississippi.  On  these  broad  prairies  there  were  no  trees 
to  be  blazed  and  no  stones  to  serve  as  landmarks,  but 
stakes  carried  on  pack  mules  were  driven  deep  in  the  ground, 
and  sods  cut  from  the  prairie  and  piled  around  them  would 
tell  their  story  for  ages.  But  often  for  miles  and  miles 
the  Indians  would  follow  the  surveyors  and  obliterate  these 
landmarks. 

It  was  late  in  the  autumn  of  1818  that  my  father's  con- 

23 


of  <£i0f)tp  % earg 


tract  was  completed.  Returning  to  St.  Louis  his  company 
was  soon  disbanded.  His  returns  to  the  Government  were 
forwarded  for  approval  and  he  set  his  face  homeward. 
In  the  meantime  he  had  purchased  a  famous  saddle  horse 
for  his  homeward  trip,  which  was  afterwards  disposed  of 
to  his  brother  Abner  Hollister  and  was  noted  as  the  "John 
Horse,"  from  bearing  my  father's  name.  For  many  years 
he  was  a  great  pet,  and  when  he  died  of  old  age  was  buried 
with  special  honors.  Father  traveled  on  horseback  through 
the  states  of  Illinois,  Indiana,  and  Ohio,  and  returned 
to  Cato,  Cayuga  County,  New  York  at  the  close  of  the 
year. 

Earlier  reference  should  have  been  made  to  father's 
military  career.  As  my  ancestors  had  been  active  partici- 
pants in  the  War  of  the  Revolution,  so  my  father  was 
likewise  engaged  in  the  War  of  1812.  Although  he  was 
but  seventeen  years  old  he  joined  the  army  as  a  sub- 
stitute, being  mustered  in  as  a  private  of  the  New  York 
State  militia.  While  his  company  was  serving  under  the 
command  of  General  Scott  at  the  battle  of  Lundy's  Lane, 
he  was  detached  to  drive  one  of  the  teams  charged  with 
the  delivery  of  ammunition  from  the  base  of  supplies  to 
the  firing  line.  While  thus  engaged,  a  flank  charge  was 
made  by  British  cavalry,  breaking  our  line,  and  he  received 
a  severe  cut  on  his  head  at  the  hand  of  a  dashing  cavalry- 
man. His  cap  was  cut  and  he  received  a  severe  scalp 
wound,  the  scar  of  which  he  carried  through  life.  A  button 
upon  his  cap  was  cut  nearly  in  twain,  and  to  this  protection 
he  attributed  the  saving  of  his  life.  He  received  an 
honorable  discharge,  and  a  pension  was  accorded  to  my 

24 


mother,  who  lived  to  be  ninety-two  years  old.  At  the 
time  of  his  death,  in  1831,  he  held  the  rank  of  Colonel  in 
the  State  Militia  of  Michigan,  and  I  well  remember  his 
prominence  in  the  annual  military  training,  as  I  once 
undertook  to  run  to  him  when  he  was  maneuvering  the 
troops  on  the  field,  and  he  detailed  a  soldier  to  take  me  to 
the  guard  house.  Thus  a  few  words  with  regard  to  my 
father's  early  life. 

Mary  Chamberlin,  my  mother,  the  oldest  of  ten  children 
of  Gad  Chamberlin  and  Lydia  Baldwin,  was  born  in 
Greeneville,  Green  County,  New  York,  December  15,  1797. 
In  her  early  childhood  the  family  removed  to  Sangers- 
field,  Oneida  County.  In  1816  they  again  removed  to 
Lima,  Livingston  County,  where  she  remained  until  her 
marriage.  It  was  a  special  purpose  of  her  father  that  his 
children  should  enjoy  the  best  educational  facilities  that 
the  times  and  his  means  could  afford.  In  addition  to  the 
advantage  which  Lima  offered,  my  mother  later  attended 
the  Young  Ladies'  Seminary  at  Moscow,  New  York,  then  in 
high  repute.  Her  special  fondness  was  for  English  Com- 
position, in  which  she  so  far  excelled  as  to  receive  a  letter 
of  special  commendation  from  the  principal  at  the  con- 
clusion of  the  final  examinations. 

During  the  years  of  her  young  womanhood  strong  attach- 
ments were  developed  among  the  young  people  of  Lima 
and  its  environments,  resulting  not  only  in  a  number  of 
intermarriages,  but  also  the  continuance  of  those  friend- 
ships in  the  families  which  were  to  be. 

During  my  father's  absence  upon  his  surveying  tour  his 
brother-in-law,  Rev.  Chauncy  Cook,  with  whom  he  had 

25 


ieg  of  <£i0f)tp  Ifearg 


lived  in  Pompey,  had  assumed  the  pastorate  of  the  Presby- 
terian Church  in  Lima,  New  York,  and  hither  my  father 
came  and  taught  the  district  school  in  that  town  in  the 
winter  of  1819  and  1820.  There  he  made  mother's 
acquaintance  in  1820.  They  were  married  in  Lima  in 
1821,  Rev.  John  Barnard  officiating,  and  removed  to  my 
father's  former  home  in  Cato,  Cayuga  County.  The  follow- 
ing year  they  located  beside  their  Baldwin  relatives  in  Riga, 
Monroe  County.  Here  their  first-born  babe,  named 
Harleigh  Hamilcar,  was  accidentally  scalded  and  died  a 
few  hours  later.  Here  at  Riga  I  was  born,  August  5,  1824, 
and  two  years  later  my  little  sister,  Juliette,  who  died 
when  she  was  two  years  old. 


CHAPTER  III 
LIFE   IN   MICHIGAN 

TN  1825  the  Erie  Canal  had  been  completed  to  Buffalo, 
•••  and  by  it  communication  by  way  of  the  Lakes  was 
established  with  the  great  Northwest.  The  Territory  of 
Michigan  was  then  being  opened  for  settlement,  and  the 
tide  of  emigration  was  strongly  set  in  that  direction.  My 
father  early  saw  that  in  establishing  the  metes  and  bounds 
of  these  early  settlers  his  services  as  a  surveyor  would  be 
in  constant  requirement.  He  also  foresaw  that  in  the 
development  of  this  new  country  there  would  be  an  un- 
limited opportunity  for  personal  advancement.  Grand- 
father Chamberlin  was  also  strongly  inclined  in  the  same 
direction.  With  a  large  and  growing  family,  his  ambition 
was  to  settle  his  children  comfortably  around  him  and  to 
give  to  each  of  his  seven  boys  a  farm.  Here,  it  seemed  to 
him,  was  his  opportunity.  He  little  knew  that  four  of 
these  sons  would  be  buried  in  Mississippi,  one  in  Oregon, 
and  only  one  in  Michigan.  The  Territory  was  awaiting 
the  coming  of  such  men,  and  there,  to  his  heart's  content, 
he  could  convert  the  forest  into  fruitful  fields.  Other 
families,  like-minded,  joined  him  in  the  organization  of  a 
little  colony  numbering  some  thirty  persons.  A  canal 
boat  was  chartered  at  Pittsford,  New  York,  and  the  people 
and  their  effects  were  soon  landed  in  Buffalo.  The  old 
steamer  United  States  was  one  of  the  first  steamboats  on 
Lake  Erie,  and  in  that  they  skirted  the  southern  shore 

27 


of 


of  the  lake  and  landed,  after  three  days,  at  Detroit,  May 
10,  1827.  That  town  then  contained  about  four  hundred 
inhabitants,  a  majority  of  whom  were  French  and  half- 
breed  Indians.  The  objective  point  for  our  people  was  then 
called  Indian  Village,  situated  forty  miles  north  of  Detroit, 
and  to  reach  this  point  with  their  effects  required  three 
full  days.  Romeo  is  the  name  now  given  to  the  village  which 
they  helped  to  form,  and  where  before  the  winter  set  in  the 
colony  was  comfortably  housed.  During  the  summer  Grand- 
father erected  a  sawmill  in  connection  with  his  farming 
interests,  and  thus  lumber,  so  much  needed,  was  soon 
supplied. 

The  coming  of  the  colony  gave  a  marked  impulse  to  the 
settlement  of  that  part  of  the  county  of  Macomb.  New 
settlers  were  wonderfully  kind.  Men  turned  out  far  and 
near  to  assist  at  the  raising  of  houses  and  barns,  and  women 
were  unsparing  in  their  devotion  to  those  who  were  sick. 
The  needs  of  the  children  in  the  new  settlement  were  early 
recognized  and  promptly  provided  for.  A  year  had  not 
elapsed  before  a  frame  schoolhouse  had  been  erected.  It 
was  the  first  frame  building  in  all  that  part  of  the  county, 
and  from  that  day  the  settlement  never  failed  to  maintain 
both  summer  and  winter  schools  quite  above  the  average  of 
district  schools  then  in  vogue.  Not  only  were  schools 
fostered,  but  religious  meetings  were  soon  inaugurated. 
By  common  consent  the  schoolhouses  throughout  the 
country  were  at  the  service  of  religious  denominations. 
The  Methodist  people  led  in  this  pioneer  work,  and  circuit 
riders,  as  they  were  called,  rendered  a  most  important 
service.  Within  a  year  of  our  arrival  there  were  stated 

28 


Hifc  hi 


preaching  services  in  our  schoolhouse,  people  coming  from  a 
distance  to  attend  the  meetings.  On  special  occasions, 
such  as  a  quarterly  meeting,  it  became  necessary  for  want 
of  room  to  hold  services  in  an  adjacent  barn,  where,  as  I 
well  remember,  a  little  later  I  was  one  of  the  boys  on  the  hay 
mow.  It  was  a  desirable  class  of  people  which  located  in 
Michigan  in  those  early  days.  Persons  and  property  were 
perfectly  secure  and  the  commission  of  crime  was  almost 
unknown.  The  majority  of  the  people  were  religiously 
inclined,  and  in  an  early  day  the  various  denominations 
were  permanently  organized.  Especial  attention  was 
given  to  the  subject  of  education.  The  territory  was  yet 
in  its  infancy  when  schools  became  one  of  the  chief  con- 
cerns. The  Michigan  University  of  to-day  is  the  logical 
outcome  of  its  district  schools  and  the  academies  which 
they  developed.  I  know  not  how  it  is  to-day,  but  twenty- 
five  years  ago  there  was  more  mail  delivered  to  the  citizens 
of  Michigan  per  capita  than  to  those  of  any  other  state  in 
the  Union. 

In  this  connection  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  speak  of 
rural  life  in  those  early  days.  Nothing  could  be  more 
democratic  than  the  methods  and  manners  of  the  early 
settlers.  There  was  no  class  distinction  between  employers 
and  employed.  That  could  not  well  be,  for  all  had  to  work. 
The  man  or  woman  who  would  not,  if  able-bodied,  would 
be  considered  an  outcast  for  whom  there  was  no  use. 
Workmen  were  housed  under  the  same  roof  with  their 
employers,  ate  at  the  same  table,  and  held  position  accord- 
ing to  their  merit.  In  cases  of  large  families  with  limited 
means,  it  was  the  custom  for  the  older  boys  and  girls  to 

29 


of 


work  out  as  " hired  help."  I  recall  the  histories  of  a  num- 
ber who  worked  in  our  own  and  grandfather's  families. 
The  wages  of  young  men  from  twenty  to  twenty-five 
years  old  averaged  from  ten  to  thirteen  dollars  per  month, 
with  board.  Girls  were  employed  at  from  fifty  cents  to  one 
dollar  a  week,  according  to  the  value  of  their  services. 
Young  men  frequently  hired  out  at  one  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars  a  year  and  "  found.  "  At  that  time 
land  at  a  dollar  and  a  quarter  an  acre  could  be  found 
within  five  miles  of  us  in  almost  any  direction.  It 
was  the  ambition  of  every  aspiring  young  man  to  own 
eighty  acres,  purchased  by  his  first  year's  earnings,  and 
then,  from  the  proceeds  of  a  second  year,  to  place  himself  in 
comfortable  condition  in  his  own  new  home,  with  five  or 
ten  acres  clear.  The  first  home  was  a  simple  log  house, 
more  or  less  complete,  according  to  the  ability  of  the 
owner.  Hardly  less  important  was  the  building  of  a  barn 
for  the  protection  of  his  cattle  and  his  crops.  While  the 
young  man  had  been  working  for  the  purchase  of  his  acres, 
usually  a  girl  of  his  acquaintance  was  working  in  like  man- 
ner and  as  saving  of  her  earnings,  and  when  the  minister 
made  them  one  she  went  with  him  to  the  new  home,  moder- 
ately supplied  with  clothing,  and  taking  as  a  dower  from  her 
parents,  a  pet  cow  and  a  feather  bed.  The  young  couple 
were  of  one  mind.  They  rose  early  and  toiled  late.  Year 
by  year  the  fields  were  enlarged  and  the  flocks  increased. 
It  was  a  signal  event  when  a  span  of  horses  was  added  to 
their  stock.  I  could  name  not  a  few  families  who  thus 
began  life  when  I  was  a  little  boy.  I  have  known  the 
histories  of  those  families  through  two  generations.  Not 

3° 


Hife  in 


many  were  ever  improvident;  hardly  ever  did  a  child  fail 
of  good  common  school  education  and  most  of  those  settlers 
continued  to  old  age  as  prosperous  farmers.  Many  of 
their  sons  were  college  bred,  some  became  ministers 
others  lawyers  and  doctors,  a  number  were  distinguished 
statesmen,  while  some  strong  men  still  held  the  old  farms. 

There  has  been  a  strong  tendency  during  the  last  fifty 
years  for  both  the  boys  and  girls  to  leave  the  old  homestead 
and  settle  in  the  rapidly  growing  cities  Thus  the  cities 
have  been  constantly  growing  at  the  expense  of  the  country. 
For  years  it  has  been  a  matter  of  constant  observation 
that  the  conspicuous  men  in  the  professional  and  in  the  finan- 
cial world  were  largely  country  born,  strong  in  physical  and 
mental  development,  leaders  in  finance,  education,  and  in 
the  development  of  moral  and  religious  institutions.  Not 
only  have  the  cities  made  such  demands  upon  these  homes, 
but  such  has  been  the  rapid  growth  of  our  western  empire 
and  such  the  inducements  to  migrate  thither,  that  almost 
every  town  and  hamlet  in  the  older  states  has  contributed 
its  numerous  representatives  in  the  settlement  of  the  West. 
The  result  has  been  that  in  all  the  newly  acquired  territory 
the  American  spirit  has  been  dominant,  and  the  foreign 
population  has  been  steadily  and  rapidly  Americanized. 
The  trend  of  influence  among  the  great  masses  of  our 
people  is  toward  the  right,  and  their  final  pronouncement 
is  always  safe. 

Another  source  of  safety  for  our  commonwealth  is  found 
in  the  fact  that  there  are  no  entailments  of  large  estates. 
The  toilers  in  vast  numbers  are  the  owners  of  the  soil  they 
till,  and  this  love  of  possession  is  one  of  the  strongest 

31 


of 


factors  that  can  be  relied  upon  for  national  preservation. 
Every  owner  of  a  homestead  can  be  counted  on  as  loyal 
to  his  country  and  a  defender  of  the  people.  Thus,  while, 
within  the  period  of  my  memory,  the  population  of  this 
country  has  increased  from  fifteen  to  over  eighty  millions, 
there  never  was  a  time  when  the  people,  whether  home  or 
foreign  born,  were  more  sincerely  loyal  to  every  interest 
than  they  are  to-day.  A  million  lives  have  already  been 
given  to  the  preservation  of  the  union.  A  million  home- 
steads and  the  hearts  of  their  possessors  are  pledged  for 
our  national  perpetuity. 


CHAPTER   IV 
CHILDHOOD   MEMORIES 

T I  BURNING  from  ancestral  history  and  the  experiences 
*•  of  our  people  in  pioneer  life  to  matters  personal,  it 
seems  natural  to  refer  first  to  some  of  my  earliest  childhood 
memories.  There  are  many  which  I  can  recall,  but  a  few 
only  must  suffice.  Trivial  as  they  were,  they  have  in  later 
years  held  an  abiding  place  in  my  memory.  It  may  not  be 
a  survival  of  the  fittest,  but  it  is  surely  a  case  where  the 
first  shall  be  last.  Thus  it  seems  to  me  of  those  I  can  recall 
after  a  period  of  eighty  years. 

My  first  attempt  to  acquire  property  by  conquest 
occurred  just  eighty- two  years  ago.  It  was  a  case  where 
thus  early  I  assumed  that  might  made  right,  and  that  pos- 
session held  at  least  nine  points  in  the  law,  a  rule  not  even 
yet  entirely  obsolete. 

A  Mr.  Voorhies  had  purchased  my  father's  farm  just 
before  our  removal  to  Michigan,  and  for  a  few  weeks  the  two 
families  were  dwelling  under  the  same  roof.  I  was  the 
active  representative  of  my  father's  family,  and  Katherine 
was  the  only  child  in  the  other.  I  was  two  years  and 
eight  months  old,  and  Kate  was  six  months  older  than  I. 
The  acquirement  of  property  is  a  fashion  not  confined  to 
individuals.  The  United  States  coveted  a  part  of  Mexico 
and  got  it  by  no  fair  means;  England  treated  the  Boers  in 
like  manner.  It  was  in  precisely  like  manner  that  Kate  and 
I  went  to  war.  England  and  our  country  have  not  been 

33 


of 


spanked  for  their  injustice — they  may  be  as  time  goes  on; 
but  Kate  and  I  got  ours  from  whichever  mother  first 
reached  the  scene  of  action.  Day  by  day  our  fights  went 
on.  These  mothers  constituted  a  kind  of  Hague  tribunal 
for  the  settlement  of  our  affairs.  Between  Kate  and 
myself  the  "casus  belli"  was  a  pretty  little  green  chair. 
It  belonged  to  Kate  by  right  of  possession.  I  saw  no  good 
reason  why  it  might  not  be  mine  by  conquest.  As  a  boy 
I  think  I  had  a  little  the  advantage  in  the  matter  of  muscle, 
but  Kate  had  the  advantage  of  age.  Our  battles  were  at 
close  range,  nor  was  the  conflict  conducted  in  silence.  If 
I  remember  rightly,  Kate  did  most  of  the  screaming.  When 
it  came  to  the  punishment,  Kate  and  I  sang  a  duet.  When 
the  chair  was  taken  from  us  and  hung  upon  a  nail,  we  looked 
at  it,  then  we  looked  at  each  other,  and  both  were  satisfied 
and  went  at  some  other  mischief. 

My  first  serious  fright  occurred  about  that  time.  Among 
our  family  possessions  to  be  disposed  of  was  a  fine  flock  of 
geese.  The  time  had  come  for  their  removal.  I  know 
nothing  of  the  purchaser,  nor  of  the  later  history  of  the 
geese,  but  the  method  of  their  capture  has  never  faded  from 
my  memory.  A  team  was  driven  to  our  door — I  remember 
the  big,  green  wagon  box,  and  how  the  men  placed  the 
boards  to  cover  it.  I  well  remember  the  terrible  conflict 
which  finally  ended  in  the  capture  of  the  geese.  Again  and 
again  around  the  house  the  geese  fled  as  best  they  might,  and 
around  and  around  the  house  the  men  pursued  them. 
Those  geese  had  wonderful  command  of  language.  I 
could  not  understand  it,  but  to  me  it  was  terrific.  If  I  had 
known  of  the  Judgment  Day,  I  think  I  should  have 

34 


thought  that  day  had  come.  Such  horrible  screaming  and 
such  clapping  of  wings  were  entirely  too  much  for  my 
untutored  nerves,  and  it  was  only  when  the  geese  pressed 
their  heads  from  their  imprisonment  in  silence  and  the 
wagon  was  gone  from  the  door,  and  my  mother's  arms, 
which  had  tightly  held  me,  were  released,  that  I  slowly 
came  to  my  former  self. 

Our  people,  on  their  way  to  Michigan,  had  reached  Lock- 
port,  and  while  the  boat  was  passing  through  the  lock  it 
was  the  custom  for  those  who  could  to  leave  the  boat  and 
walk  up  an  incline  on  the  tow-path.  Dear  old  Aunt  Lucy 
Day,  the  mother  of  a  family  of  eight  well-grown  children, 
who  formed  a  part  of  our  colony,  consented  to  sit  on  deck 
and  hold  me  in  her  arms  while  the  boat  was  passing  through. 
When  the  water  from  the  lock  came  plunging  and  foaming 
and  the  boat  was  tossed  from  side  to  side  as  though  it  were 
but  a  shell,  my  terror  began.  That  mother's  arms  had 
cuddled  seven  sturdy  boys,  as  only  a  mother's  arms  can, 
but  this  was  a  new  experience.  I  know  not  how  hard  I 
struggled  nor  how  loudly  I  screamed;  I  know  that  I  was 
frightened  for  all  there  was  in  me.  In  later  days  good 
Auntie  Day  told  me  that  this  was  the  supreme  effort  of  her 
life,  and  that  she  really  thought  for  a  while  I  would  break 
from  her  arms  and  go  overboard. 

At  a  little  later  time  I  should  have  been  frightened  when 
I  was  not.  It  was  a  case  where  ignorance  was  bliss  and  it 
was  folly  to  be  wise.  My  uncle,  Addison  Chamberlin,  and 
my  father,  had  located  their  farms  a  half  mile  apart,  and  a 
dense  woodland  lay  between.  It  was  the  height  of  my 
happiness  to  visit  my  Aunt  Lydia,  and  I  was  never  ready 

35 


of 


to  leave  her  until  I  was  sent  home.  I  was  then  nearly  six 
years  old.  The  twilight  was  coming  on,  but  the  moon  was 
in  full.  I  was  midway  in  the  wood,  following  a  well-cleared 
road,  when  I  heard  the  loping,  as  I  supposed,  of  a  dog  be- 
longing to  a  neighbor,  with  whose  hunting  hounds  I  was 
very  familiar.  I  whistled  and  called  the  animal  to  come  to 
me.  Just  then  in  an  open  space  he  came  in  full  view,  drop- 
ping upon  his  haunches,  lapping  with  his  tongue  and 
panting  as  though  he  had  been  running.  In  that  dim  light 
he  looked  strange  to  me,  and  as  I  continued  my  call  he 
turned  suddenly  and  with  a  lope  was  soon  hidden  from  my 
view.  Just  then  my  father's  voice  reverberated  through 
the  woods,  calling  me  by  name.  I  hastened  home,  and  was 
duly  reprimanded  for  being  out  so  late.  A  few  moments 
later  and  the  familiar  howl  of  a  wolf  was  heard  in  the  dense 
swamp  that  lay  not  far  from  the  roadside  where  I  had  been, 
and  into  which  my  strange  dog  had  gone.  Soon  there  came 
a  responsive  wolf-howl  far  away.  Nearer  and  nearer  they 
were  heard  until  the  two  were  united.  There  were  ominous 
glances  from  parental  eyes  and  shaking  of  heads  which  I 
still  remember. 

From  my  own  experience  I  learned  never  to  promise  a 
child  anything  unless  I  was  prepared  to  fulfill  it  to  the  letter. 
When  I  was  about  five  years  old,  there  was  a  quilting  at  our 
house  and  the  women  ran  short  of  thread.  My  Aunt 
Julia,  later  my  first  school-teacher,  said  to  me  that  if  I  would 
run  down  to  a  neighbor  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away  and  bring 
a  spool  of  thread,  she  would  give  me  a  sixpence.  Be  it 
remembered  that  in  that  early  time  nickels  and  dimes  were 
yet  unknown.  Time  went  on,  but  I  remembered  that  my 

36 


<£lHl&iioot)  iHmioric B 


Aunt  Julia  had  promised  me  a  sixpence.  Winter  came,  and 
one  evening  when  a  jolly  party  was  out  for  a  sleigh  ride  they 
came  to  our  fireside  for  a  warm-up.  Aunt  Julia  was  one  of 
that  party.  I  remember  the  little  black  mitten  which  she 
took  off,  and  just  how  she  jingled  out  a  bright  sixpence 
and  handed  it  to  me.  It  was  the  first  money  I  ever  earned. 
I  have  remembered  it  through  all  the  years;  not  so  much 
for  its  money  value,  I  think,  but  from  the  fact  that  she 
promised  me  the  sixpence  and  didn't  forget  it. 

I  equally  well  remember  another  promise  which  was  made 
to  me  about  the  same  time,  but  never  fulfilled,  and  never 
forgotten.  A  Frenchman  who  owned  a  sawmill  had  pre- 
viously located  not  far  from  our  settlement  and  was  the 
owner  of  a  large  drove  of  Indian  ponies,  which  roamed  at 
large  and  which  often  crossed  our  roadway.  One  evening 
as  he  was  paying  our  people  a  neighborly  visit  he  took  me 
upon  his  knee  and,  with  the  politeness  peculiar  to  his  people, 
he  promised  to  give  me  a  pony.  From  that  time  on  I  never 
passed  that  drove  of  ponies  but  that  I  wondered  which  of 
those  ponies  was  to  be  mine.  Time  went  on  when,  one 
evening  as  I  was  returning  home  from  my  first  school,  I 
met  the  Frenchman  in  the  road,  and  I  said  to  him,  for  I 
had  been  taught  to  be  polite,  "Mr.  Trombley,  will  you 
please  give  me  my  pony?  "  He  said  something  in  French,  so 
emphatically  that  it  is  probably  well  that  I  did  not  under- 
stand him.  It  was  now  a  matter  between  him  and  myself 
and  as  our  environments  were  changed  he  wasn't  a  bit 
polite.  Others  may  have  had  a  like  experience,  but  I  never 
got  the  pony  nor  forgot  the  promise. 

To  these  I  must  add  one  more  of  my  childhood  memories — 

37 


of  €ij$tp 


one  so  sad  and  so  deeply  graven  on  my  heart  that  time  has 
had  no  power  to  efface  it.  It  was  that  of  the  "little  boy  that 
was  lost,"  my  first  little  schoolmate,  Alanson  Finch.  The 
first  schoolhouse  in  our  new  settlement,  now  called  Romeo, 
was  built  in  1828.  Gideon  Gates  had  taught  the  first  winter 
school,  and  my  Aunt  Julia  had  followed  him  and  had  just 
opened  the  first  summer  term.  Alanson  Finch  was  my  seat- 
mate.  He  was  about  six  years  old,  and  I  a  little  younger. 
We  were  very  chummy,  as  little  boys  often  are,  and  at  recess 
we  always  played  together.  A  little  natural  lawn  lay 
between  the  schoolhouse  and  a  little  brook  near  by.  It 
was  springtime,  and  we  found  that  by  digging  with  our 
little  hands  a  foot  or  so  beneath  the  sod,  water  would 
flow  in  and  give  us  real,  live  little  wells.  With  strings 
attached  to  little  billets  of  wood  we  improvised  little 
buckets  for  drawing  water.  I  don't  remember  the  con- 
dition of  our  hands  when  called  from  recess  back  to  school 
but  presume  that  other  boys  and  other  teachers  have  had 
a  like  experience.  From  the  days  of  Cain  until  now  I  think 
it  has  been  the  delight  of  older  boys  to  bother  the  little 
ones,  and  we  were  the  little  ones.  Older  boys  would  take 
round  sticks  of  wood  of  the  proper  size  and  drive  them  so 
firmly  into  our  little  wells  that  we  could  not  pull  them 
out.  Our  last  effort  was  successful.  As  we  dug  we  carefully 
threw  the  dirt  into  the  brook  and  covered  our  wells  with  a 
slab  of  wood.  As  the  spring  opened  there  was  a  real  freshet 
and  the  roads  were  so  intolerable  that  the  school  was 
adjourned  for  two  weeks;  and  on  a  Friday  night  Alanson 
and  I  parted  company,  taking  our  last  look  at  the  little  well. 
Old  Mr.  Finch,  the  father  of  a  large  family,  of  which 

38 


Alanson  was  the  youngest,  lived  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away 
from  the  schoolhouse,  and  upon  the  rear  end  of  his  farm 
there  was  a  fine  forest  of  maple  trees.  The  men  were  now 
busy  making  sugar.  On  Saturday  following  the  closing  of 
the  school,  Alanson  and  Addison,  his  next  older  brother, 
spent  the  day  in  the  sugar  bush.  Towards  night  the  little 
boys  were  sent  home.  About  midway  the  path  which  led 
through  a  dense  poplar  grove  divided,  one  branch  leading 
to  the  home  and  the  other  to  the  schoolhouse.  Evidently 
to  see  his  little  well,  Alanson  took  the  one  leading  to  the 
schoolhouse.  Addison  refused  to  go  with  him  and  each  went 
his  way.  At  the  supper  table,  inquiry  was  made  for 
Alanson.  No  answer  was  made,  as  the  evening  came  on,  to 
the  shouting  of  voices  and  the  firing  of  guns.  A  bonfire  was 
quickly  kindled,  every  home  in  the  settlement  was  visited, 
and  yet  no  tidings.  The  next  day  the  whole  settlement  was 
astir.  My  father,  who  was  then  colonel  of  militia,  organ- 
ized men  and  women  into  hunting  bands,  and  mapped  out 
districts  for  a  systematic  search.  People  came  from  a 
distance  and  united  in  this  search.  Two  full  weeks  were 
given  to  the  effort,  which  was  continued  many  miles 
around,  and  then  the  little  boy  was  given  up  for  lost,  and 
never  was  there  word  heard  of  him  afterwards.  His  aged 
parents  were  overborne  with  grief,  and  within  less  than  a 
year  both  were  numbered  with  the  dead.  The  final  conclu- 
sion was  that  Alanson  had  been  stolen  by  some  of  the  roving 
bands  of  Indians,  between  whom  and  the  older  Finch  boys 
there  had  been  trouble,  caused  by  the  alleged  stealing  of  In- 
dian ponies.  The  stories  of  that  search  rang  in  my  ears  for 
many  years  and  were  the  source  of  many  troubled  dreams. 

39 


CHAPTER  V 
SCHOOLS  AND  TEACHERS 

T  DO  not  know  when  I  first  learned  to  read.  I  remember 
•*•  to  have  surprised  my  father  by  demonstrating  the  fact 
when  I  could  count  a  hundred.  I  could  read  quite  well 
when  I  first  went  to  school,  and  when  eight  years  old  was  in 
the  class  with  the  oldest  ones,  and  stood  up  by  one  on  a  stool 
and  read  from  the  "  English  Reader, " — now  long  out  of  date, 
a  copy  of  which  was  recently  presented  to  me  by  a  friend 
at  a  cost  of  nine  dollars.  When  six  years  old  I  had  com- 
mitted to  memory,  by  my  mother's  dictation  while  I  was 
tumbling  on  the  floor,  the  first  three  chapters  of  the  Gospel 
according  to  Matthew,  to  be  recited  in  the  Sunday  school 
which  had  just  been  organized  in  our  town.  Those  chapters 
are  now  more  familiar  to  me  than  any  writing  that  I  have 
memorized  in  later  days. 

Gideon  Gates  was  the  first  school-teacher  in  Indian 
Village,  and  by  sufferance  I  was  permitted  to  attend  for  one 
day  when  I  was  five  years  old.  It  was  not  a  day  of  comfort 
for  me.  The  boys  were  restive  and  turbulent.  The 
teacher  seldom  rose  from  his  stool  in  the  center  of  the  little 
room,  and  when  he  would  reach  out  his  long  whip  and  give 
a  boy  a  whack  over  the  head,  I  had  something  of  the  sensa- 
tion I  think  I  would  now  have  in  the  midst  of  a  menagerie 
surrounded  by  wild  beasts.  For  five  successive  years  I 
attended  the  district  school  taught  in  the  winters  by  Messrs. 
Prentiss,  Hallock,  Brown,  Yates,  Bailey,  and  Buzzell,  and 

40 


ano 


in  summers  by  Misses  Julia  Chamberlin,  Sarah  Baldwin, 
Saphronia  Ewell,  and  Emily  Church.  Then  for  one  year  I 
was  the  pupil  of  Miss  Jerusha  Shaw,  who  taught  a  select 
school  in  the  audience  room  of  the  Congregational  Church. 
In  the  fall  of  the  year  1835  an  event  occurred,  when  I 
was  eleven  years  old,  which  had  much  to  do  with  my  early 
education.  Mr.  Ornon  Archer,  a  recent  graduate  of  Wil- 
liams College,  came  to  Romeo  and  founded  the  Romeo 
Academy,  which  soon  became  one  of  the  most  noted  schools 
in  the  State  and  drew  to  it  students  from  all  parts  of  the 
country.  For  three  years  he  and  his  wife  boarded  in  our 
family,  and  I  was  thus  under  his  immediate  instruction. 
During  that  three  years  mine  was  an  unbroken  course  of 
study  under  the  best  of  supervision,  while  out  of  school 
hours  the  chores  and  the  woodpile  gave  me  very  few  idle 
moments  Of  these  three  years  there  is  nothing  marvelous  to 
relate.  I  suppose  I  was  as  boisterous  and  uncouth  as  boys 
at  that  age  usually  are.  I  think  I  was  just  about  an  average 
boy  with  a  boy's  crudities.  I  surely  was  spared  the  mis- 
fortune of  being  considered  a  prodigy.  In  1839,  Mr.  Archer 
closed  his  relations  with  the  Romeo  Academy  and  the 
school  passed  to  other  hands.  During  that  summer  Abner 
Hollister,  my  father 's  oldest  brother,  came  West  and  visited 
us.  He  proposed  that  I  should  go  East  and  spend  the 
winter  in  the  Jordan  Academy,  (conducted  by  Professor 
Stowe),  in  company  with  his  son,  Cousin  Abner,  Jr.,  who  in 
age  was  six  months  my  senior.  This  was  my  first  experience 
of  life  away  from  home,  and  do  what  I  would,  there  some- 
times came  over  me  the  dire  sensation  of  homesickness. 
I  was  now  in  my  sixteenth  year,  and  I  found  that  I  had  a 

41 


of 


good  many  things  to  learn  and  not  a  few  of  them  to  un- 
learn. I  had  to  learn  to  take  as  well  as  give  and  had  no  one 
to  fall  back  on  for  counsel.  It  was  then  that  the  training  in 
the  Romeo  Academy  came  to  my  aid,  for  though  I  was  the 
wild  and  woolly  boy  of  the  West,  at  the  final  examinations 
I  had  the  good  fortune  to  receive  the  highest  prize  with 
the  autograph  and  commendation  of  Professor  Stowe.  On 
our  return  from  Jordan  to  his  home  in  Cato,  I  showed  Uncle 
Abner  my  embossed  tablet  with  Professor  Stowe 's  letter. 
He  was  much  pleased,  but  as  I  stood  and  looked  at  him  as 
he  read  it  I  almost  wished  that  it  had  been  Abner 's. 

The  spring  was  at  hand  and  I  could  ride  on  a  canal  boat 
at  a  penny  a  mile  and  board;  thus  I  made  my  way  from 
Cato  to  Rochester  on  my  way  home  to  Michigan.  At 
Rochester,  Uncle  George  A.  Hollister,  my  father's  youngest 
brother,  had  built  up  a  large  business,  and  was  heavily 
engaged  in  the  lumber  trade.  The  generous  man  he  was, 
made  me  the  offer  that  if  I  would  return  in  the  fall  I  should 
have  a  home  in  his  family  and  a  year's  schooling  in  the 
Rochester  Collegiate  Institute,  then  the  most  noted  educa- 
tional institution  in  western  New  York.  Thus  in  October, 
1840,  while  the  whole  country  was  going  wild  singing  Whig 
songs  and  drinking  hard  cider,  I  entered  the  Institute.  I 
had  in  mind  fitting  myself  for  teaching  as  a  future  employ- 
ment. I  saw  no  way  of  acquiring  a  profession,  and  I  was 
too  poor  to  buy  a  farm.  I  had  hardly  entered  the  Institute 
before  I  said  to  myself:  "Here  is  my  opportunity,  and  for 
a  year  I  will  make  the  most  of  it."  The  Legislature  of 
New  York,  influenced  by  Horace  Mann,  had  created  a  num- 
ber of  normal  departments  for  the  education  of  teachers, 

42 


anfc 


and  this  institution  had  secured  one  of  them.  While  I 
continued  my  classical  studies  I  gave  my  full  energies  to 
those  in  the  Normal  course,  and  went  through  thirty-three 
weeks'  session  without  missing  a  single  recitation.  Near 
the  close  of  the  year,  unbeknown  to  me,  my  uncle  had  a 
conference  with  the  preceptor,  and  as  the  result,  my  uncle 
said  it  would  be  the  wisest  thing  for  me  to  remain  another 
year  and  complete  the  Normal  course,  and  receive  a  State 
certificate  entitling  me  to  teach  anywhere  in  the  State  with- 
out further  examination.  It  seemed  the  opportunity  of  my 
life;  of  course  I  stayed  and  received  my  certificate  in  due 
form,  and  my  school  days  were  ended. 


43 


CHAPTER  VI 
SCHOOL-TEACHING 

AFTER  an  absence  of  nearly  two  years,  I  returned  to 
Michigan  in  the  spring  of  1842.  The  need  of  my 
help  had  caused  a  pretty  severe  draft  on  my  mother's 
resources.  I  was  not  yet  eighteen  years  old,  and,  while  too 
young  to  seek  a  permanent  situation  as  a  teacher,  I  must  at 
once  do  something  to  earn  our  daily  bread.  I  determined 
to  seek  a  position  for  the  following  winter  in  a  district 
school  not  so  far  away  but  that  I  could  be  near  enough  to 
lend  a  helping  hand  at  home.  By  August  a  school  such  as 
I  desired  had  been  secured,  but  it  was  eight  miles  away  and 
I  could  only  reach  my  home  by  walking.  There  yet  re- 
mained four  months  before  the  school  would  open,  and  now 
in  good  earnest  I  turned  farmer.  I  hired  a  yoke  of  oxen, 
a  plow,  and  a  harrow.  Our  home  lot  contained  twelve  acres. 
Six  of  these  were  reserved  for  pasture,  and  the  other  six  I 
plowed,  harrowed,  and  with  my  own  hands  sowed  broad- 
cast with  wheat.  When  it  came  up  I  was  complimented  for 
having  sown  it  so  evenly.  I  will  forecast  its  history  to  say 
that  during  the  next  season  I  cradled  the  wheat  in  due 
time,  threshed  it  in  the  barn  with  the  flail,  and  had  wheat 
to  sell. 

My  first  winter's  experiences  were  pretty  severe  so  far 
as  physical  endurance  was  concerned.  The  year  1842  was 
long  remembered  as  the  hard  winter,  when  deep  snow  was 
on  the  ground  from  October  i5th,  the  day  my  school  opened, 

44 


until  the  middle  of  the  following  April.  A  description  of 
my  doings  for  a  given  two  weeks  is  a  sample  of  the  winter 's 
work. 

I  would  rise  on  Monday  morning  at  5  o  'clock,  and  with 
a  bucksaw  add  to  the  pile  of  stove  wood  enough  to  last  for 
two  weeks.  At  6:30  a  hot  breakfast  was  in  waiting.  At 
7  o  'clock  I  started  on  my  eight-mile  trip,  and  often  had  to 
break  the  path  where  the  snow  was  knee  deep.  I  was 
rarely  a  minute  late  at  school,  for  I  could  do  some  good 
running  if  it  were  necessary.  At  noon  I  ate  a  cold  lunch 
with  the  children.  I  "boarded  'round,"  and  sometimes 
walked  from  one  to  two  miles  after  being  on  my  feet  all 
day,  for  I  could  never  teach  while  sitting  down.  During 
the  first  week  school  continued  on  Saturday  also,  and  I  re- 
mained in  the  district.  On  the  following  week  it  would 
close  on  Friday  night,  and  at  7  o  'clock  of  that  evening  I 
was  at  my  mother's  supper  table.  The  next  morning  I  was 
at  the  bucksaw  again  until  breakfast  time.  Then  I  went 
on  the  double-quick  to  my  uncle's,  a  mile  or  more  away, 
and  borrowed  a  yoke  of  oxen  and  sled  and  drew  the  girdled 
timber,  sled  length,  from  the  wheat  lot  to  the  house  until, 
at  five  o'clock,  I  had  a  formidable  woodpile  again.  The 
team  returned,  and  supper  ended,  I  spent  two  hours  or  more 
with  that  bucksaw.  Sunday  was  a  day  of  rest  and  I  knew 
to  the  full  what  it  meant.  To  be  sure,  there  was  church 
service,  morning,  afternoon,  and  evening,  but  even  singing 
in  the  choir  was  rest.  This  history  of  one  two  weeks  was  a 
sample  of  the  others,  with  little  variation. 

I  had  very  pleasant  experiences  in  boarding  'round ,  some 
of  them  very  funny,  which  I  shall  not  relate.  It  was  a  rich 

45 


of 


farming  country,  and  of  course  I  had  the  fat  of  the  land,  for 
the  schoolmaster  was  sure  of  the  center  cuts  of  all  the  best 
things.  My  indoor  experiences  in  the  school  were  some- 
what peculiar.  Nineteen  of  my  pupils  were  older  than  my- 
self, and  such  had  been  the  intermarriage  of  families  that 
by  far  the  larger  number  of  the  children  were  cousins.  Be- 
sides, I  had  been  advised  by  the  school  inspector  that  there 
might  be  need  of  more  or  less  despotic  government,  since  the 
big  boys  the  whiter  before  had  run  the  little  teacher  out- 
doors because  he  could  not  "do  the  sums."  Things  went 
well  for  a  little  while,  when  one  morning  a  fellow  two  years 
older  than  myself  came  in  late,  and  in  the  center  of  the  room, 
started  in  upon  a  regular  breakdown  double-shuffle  to 
knock  off  the  snow.  What  happened  just  then  I  cannot 
explain.  I  remember  I  had  him  good  and  tight  by  the  coat 
collar,  that  he  made  a  sudden  whirl,  and  went  into  his  seat 
with  a  crash.  He  didn't  say  anything  —  neither  did  I. 
I  went  back  to  my  work,  and  he  to  his,  and  the  scholars 
were  taking  long  breaths  again.  Incidentally,  as  the  boys 
went  out  at  recess  I  heard  one  of  the  smaller  ones  say  to 
another,  "He'd  kill  us  —  wouldn't  he?" 

Another  incident  occurred  soon  after  which  again  put  me 
on  my  mettle.  A  girl,  some  eighteen  years  of  age  and  over- 
grown, had  taken  a  seat  belonging  to  one  still  older  than 
herself  and  refused  to  give  it  up.  The  one  standing  turned 
to  me  and  requested  her  seat.  I  said,  "Certainly,"  and 
requested  big  Mary  to  move  along.  She  gave  neither  look 
nor  answer.  I  said,  "Mary,  take  your  seat."  No  re- 
sponse. I  said,  "Mary,  take  your  seat  or  I  shall  punish 
you."  She  turned  up  her  nose  but  made  no  move.  I  had 

46 


a  large  ruler,  some  two  feet  long,  the  inheritance  of  some 
former  age,  in  hand.  I  gave  her  a  blow  as  severe  as  I 
thought  safe  upon  her  fat  arm,  which  was  covered  by  a 
close  sleeve.  She  quivered  but  did  not  stir.  I  raised  my 
hand  for  the  second  blow.  At  the  instant,  she  made  a 
plunge  for  her  own  seat  in  the  corner,  and  with  a  force  that 
made  the  house  jar.  That  was  the  end  of  all  trouble  in 
that  school,  as  far  as  discipline  was  concerned.  The  fact 
that  I  taught  in  that  same  school  during  the  next  winter 
gave  evidence  that  my  efforts  had  been  successful,  and 
those  who  before  had  been  turbulent  seemed  proud  of  their 
teacher,  for  they  said  they  could  not  run  him  out. 

It  seems  fitting,  in  this  connection,  to  state  that  on  Jan- 
uary i,  1843,  while  teaching  my  first  school,  I  changed  my 
purpose  from  being  a  teacher  by  profession  to  that  of  being  a 
physician.  To  this  I  will  refer  later  under  the  head  of 
Medical  Study.  I  only  refer  to  it  now  to  state  that  from 
this  time  on,  in  connection  with  teaching,  my  spare  time 
was  devoted  to  medical  reading  until  my  graduation  five 
years  later. 

During  the  following  summer  I  worked  on  our  little  farm 
and  continued  my  medical  reading.  I  returned  to  teach 
for  four  months  in  the  district  where  I  had  taught  before. 

My  next  venture  was  the  summer  district  school  in 
Romeo.  Though  all  else  had  changed,  people  and  build- 
ings having  come  and  gone,  yet  it  was  the  same  old  district 
school,  and  only  five  minutes'  walk  from  my  home. 
Following  this  I  taught  in  the  Philips  district,  six  miles 
northeast  of  Romeo,  and  was  able  to  spend  my  Sabbath  at 
home. 

47 


of 


Of  my  attendance  upon  medical  lectures  I  purpose  to 
speak  later;  suffice  it  here  to  say  that  as  the  medical 
department  of  Michigan  University  had  not  yet  been  or- 
ganized I  had  concluded  to  attend  the  Berkshire  Medical 
College,  in  Pittsfield,  Massachusetts.  Its  sessions  com- 
menced in  August  and  concluded  in  November,  thus  en- 
abling students  to  teach,  or  attend  lectures  elsewhere,  dur- 
ing the  winter  months.  I  arranged  to  return  from  Pitts- 
field,  Massachusetts,  to  Lima,  New  York,  the  old  home  of 
my  parents,  and  teach  in  the  same  place  where  both  of  my 
parents  had  taught  in  a  generation  gone  by.  The  parents 
of  several  of  my  pupils  had  attended  their  schools  in  the 
olden  time.  Of  course  there  were  many  recitals  of  former 
events  in  which  I  was  deeply  interested.  The  following 
summer  I  read  medicine  with  Drs.  Smith  and  Lovejoy  at 
Riga,  New  York,  and  returned  to  Pittsfield  for  my  second 
course  of  lectures,  and  came  again  in  time  to  teach  the  same 
school  a  second  winter.  At  the  time  of  my  graduation  in 
medicine,  Lake  Erie  was  frozen,  there  were  no  railroads 
west  of  Buffalo,  and  my  only  route  home  would  be  long  and 
tedious  by  stage  through  Canada.  I  could  save  a  winter's 
wages  and  could  best  seek  a  medical  location  in  the  spring. 
Here  in  the  midst  of  friends,  new  and  old,  I  spent  the  pleasant- 
est  term  of  all  my  teaching.  We  arranged  for  an  evening 
exhibition  at  the  close  of  the  term.  It  grew  to  be  quite 
an  event;  children  and  their  parents  were  very  happy  in 
what  they  deemed  a  great  success.  I  closed  this  second 
engagement  with  that  school  March  31,  1848,  and  then 
the  days  of  my  school-teaching  were  ended. 

48 


CHAPTER  VII 
MEDICAL  STUDIES 

I  HAD  returned  to  Michigan  after  concluding  the  Normal 
course  in  the  Rochester  Collegiate  Institute,  fully  intend- 
ing to  make  teaching  my  profession.  I  could  teach  in 
district  schools,  and  in  the  meantime  more  fully  prepare 
myself  for  a  professorship  in  some  institution  when  my  age 
would  warrant  it.  With  this  general  plan  in  view  I  had 
engaged  in  my  first  winter's  school  as  before  stated.  At 
that  time  Dr.  J.  P.  Whitney  who  had  been  our  family 
physician  for  years,  and  for  whom  I  had  a  very  high  regard, 
took  me  in  hand  and  we  had  several  long  conferences 
together.  His  proposition  was  that  I  should  abandon  the 
idea  of  a  professorship  and  fit  myself  to  enter  the  medical 
profession.  He  was  the  most  prominent  physician  in  the 
county,  had  a  good  library,  and  would  offer  me  every  facil- 
ity. More  and  more  it  seemed  to  me  that  that  course  was 
not  only  feasible,  but  an  open  door  to  a  wider  opportunity. 
By  means  of  the  school-teaching  in  winter,  and  reading 
during  spare  hours  and  summer  months,  I  could  pay  my 
way  until  the  time  should  come  for  entering  a  medical 
college.  I  canvassed  the  question  for  some  weeks  and  my 
mother  seemed  equally  interested  in  the  matter.  I  rea- 
soned thus:  I  wasn't  good  enough  to  be  a  preacher  nor 
pugnacious  enough  to  be  a  lawyer.  I  had  not  means  to 
set  myself  up  in  business,  nor  money  enough  to  buy  a 
farm.  The  question  narrowed  itself  down  to  this:  "Shall 

49 


of 


I  be  a  pedagogue  or  a  doctor?"  It  was  a  turning  point. 
I  chose  the  latter  and  on  January  i,  1843,  I  entered  my 
name  as  a  medical  student  with  Dr.  Whitney.  This 
course  I  pursued  for  three  years,  teaching  school  each 
winter,  and  then  left  home  to  attend  lectures  at  the  Berk- 
shire Medical  College,  Pittsfield,  Massachusetts.  There 
were  several  reasons  for  choosing  this  institution.  First, 
negatively,  the  medical  department  of  Michigan  University 
had  not  yet  been  organized,  or  I  should  probably  have 
gone  there.  Secondly,  I  was  very  fond  of  Dr.  Chester 
Dewey,  President  of  Rochester  Collegiate  Institute,  and 
he  was  Professor  of  Chemistry  also  in  the  Berkshire  School. 
Thirdly,  the  medical  lectures  commenced  August  ist  and 
closed  November  i5th.  This  would  give  me  an  opportu- 
nity to  teach  during  the  winter  months.  Finally,  Berk- 
shire County  was  the  birthplace  of  my  grandparents  and 
there  were  many  homes  in  which  I  would  find  a  hearty 
welcome.  I  left  Romeo  July  10,  1846,  and  on  my  birth- 
day, August  5th,  heard  my  first  medical  lecture,  an  open- 
ing address  by  Prof.  Alonzo  Clark,  the  famous  pathologist 
of  New  York,  to  whose  invaluable  lectures  I  was  permitted 
to  listen  for  two  successive  years.  At  the  close  of  my  first 
course  of  lectures  I  returned  to  Lima,  New  York,  as  I  have 
stated,  and  taught  school.  At  the  end  of  the  term  I  went  over 
to  Riga,  the  town  where  I  was  born,  and  read  medicine  with 
Dr.  John  R.  Smith,  whose  wife  was  a  cousin  of  my  mother, 
and  where  I  met  a  most  hospitable  reception.  Here  I  pulver- 
ized Spanish  flies,  compounded  pills,  made  up  mixtures  and 
kept  the  doctor's  saddle  bags  well  supplied.  I  also  rode 
with  him,  and  at  the  bedside  of  patients  looked  the  wisest 

so 


I  knew  how.  I  am  inclined  to  digress  from  my  story  a 
little  and  state  that  in  August  I  laid  down  my  books  and 
went  into  the  harvest  field,  and  for  eighteen  days  cradled 
wheat  at  a  dollar  and  a  half  a  day.  There  were  five 
cradlers  in  the  gang,  and  I  soon  caught  on  to  the  fact  from 
their  sly  winks  that  they  intended  to  "bush"  the  young 
doctor.  But  as  I  have  said,  I  had  cradled  wheat  before, 
but  of  this  I  said  nothing.  I  simply  took  my  swath,  and, 
as  good  luck  would  have  it,  I  had  the  best  cutting  scythe 
of  the  lot,  which  in  the  long  throws  would  hold  its  edge  to 
the  end.  I  had  been  crowded  a  few  times  when  it  came 
my  turn  to  follow  the  leader.  I  cleaned  my  clip  even  with 
his  until  near  the  end,  and  then  cut  him  clean  out  of  his 
swath.  To  be  honest,  his  cradle  was  probably  at  fault. 
I  had  to  try  my  hand  with  another  fellow,  and  with  the 
same  result.  After  that  I  was  a  jolly  good  fellow  and  every- 
thing went  smoothly.  I  may  further  state  that  with  that 
twenty-seven  dollars  I  had  a  dress  coat  made,  about  as 
nice  as  any  I  have  ever  worn  since.  In  it  I  graduated,  and 
later  in  it  I  was  married. 

During  this  summer  the  question  of  finance  was  daily 
in  mind,  and  caused  me  some  sleepless  nights.  I  had  not 
in  hand  the  means  to  pay  for  my  board  and  second  course 
of  lectures.  I  may  say  that  at  this  time  I  was  carefully 
considering  my  mother's  needs  also,  and  that  from  my 
earnings  in  Lima,  I  sent  her  twenty  dollars  the  first  winter, 
and  during  the  second,  thirty  dollars.  This  leads  me  also 
to  speak  of  wages.  The  first  two  winters  I  received 
fifteen  dollars  a  month  and  board;  the  third  winter  in 
Michigan,  sixteen  dollars.  In  Lima,  the  first  winter, 


of 


eighteen  dollars,  the  second  winter  twenty  dollars;  but 
dollars  sixty  years  ago  went  a  long  ways.  I  was  debating 
in  my  own  mind  the  question  of  turning  aside  and  teaching 
for  one  or  two  years,  and  then  of  graduating  at  Phila- 
delphia, which  would  be  the  height  of  my  ambition.  I 
finally  opened  my  heart  to  Dr.  Smith  and  sought  his 
advice.  Soon,  unbeknown  to  me,  Dr.  Smith  went  to 
Rochester,  ostensibly  on  business,  but  really  to  confer 
with  Uncle  George  Hollister,  my  former  benefactor.  Dr. 
Smith's  advice  to  me  was:  "Borrow  the  money,  get  into  the 
profession  as  early  as  you  can,  and  you  can  soon  pay  it  back." 
Upon  Dr.  Smith's  return  he  said  he  had  hardly  time  to 
open  the  case  when  uncle  interrupted  and  said:  "Of 
course,  I'll  lend  John  the  money  and  it  is  ready  any  time." 
I  went  to  Pittsfield  with  a  glad  heart,  debtor  as  I  was  to  my 
uncle,  and  graduated  November  7,  1847.  The  day  I 
passed  the  "green  room"  I  spent  at  Hinsdale  with  a  party 
of  young  people  with  whom  I  took  a  ramble  for  berries 
through  fields  and  woodland.  There  was  not  a  ten-rail 
fence  in  sight  over  which  I  could  not  leap  without  a  trip, 
especially  as  I  was  one  of  three  to  read  my  thesis  in  public. 
Does  any  doctor  ever  forget  the  day  when  he  passed  the 
"green  room "?  As  before  stated,  Lake  Erie  was  closed,  no 
railroad  ran  west  of  Buffalo,  and  to  go  West  was  impracti- 
cable. So  I  returned  to  Lima  and  taught  there  for  a 
second  winter. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
SEEKING  A  LOCATION 

li/TY  school  in  Lima  having  closed,  there  yet  remained 
+•**•  two  full  weeks  before  the  opening  of  navigation  on 
Lake  Erie.  I  could  have  spent  the  time  pleasantly  visit- 
ing with  friends  there  and  in  Rochester,  but  there  was  a 
chance  to  earn  an  honest  penny  and  I  was  on  the  lookout 
for  such.  I  bargained  with  my  cousin,  Mr.  Alexander 
Parmlee  to  fell  trees  and  cut  off  logs  for  rail  timber.  I 
received  in  payment  fifty  cents  a  day  and  board,  and  several 
blisters  on  my  hands  besides.  I  worked  for  him  twelve 
days,  and  with  the  six  dollars,  two  weeks  later  in  Roches- 
ter, I  purchased  the  two  standard  volumes  of  Miller's 
Principle  and  Practice  of  Surgery.  These  I  still  possess 
as  relics  of  both  a  shipwreck  and  the  Chicago  fire. 

News  came  that  the  lake  was  open  and  I  started  for  the 
West.  I  boarded  the  steamer  Oregon  at  Buffalo,  on  the  even- 
ing of  April  1 8, 1848.  Hardly  had  we  been  two  hours  on  our 
way  when  a  regular  hurricane  from  the  northeast  struck  us, 
and  soon  our  smokestack  broke  from  its  mooring  and  fell 
with  a  fearful  crash  upon  the  upper  deck.  The  flames  from 
the  furnace  shot  up  twenty  feet  in  the  air,  and  in  the  blind- 
ing darkness  of  the  night  it  seemed  as  though  the  whole  ship 
was  on  fire.  I  shall  never  forget  how  heroically  the  mate, 
Harry  Miller,  who  later  became  one  of  the  most  noted 
captains  on  the  lake,  grasped  a  hose  pipe  just  at  hand  and 
turned  a  stream  of  water  into  the  furnace  below,  and 

S3 


of  €igfjtp  !fear£ 


almost  instantly  had  the  fire  under  control.  Then,  too, 
the  rudder  chain  broke,  and  we  were  rolling  utterly  help- 
less in  the  troughs  of  the  sea.  An  attempt  was  made  to 
run  up  a  small  foresail.  It  was  caught  by  the  wind  and 
torn  to  shreds.  There  were  about  forty  cabin  passengers, 
and  added  to  a  seeming  impending  horror  was  the  fact 
that  one  hundred  emigrants  were  stowed  away  between 
decks,  their  shrieks  and  howling  outclassing  those  of  as 
many  wild  beasts.  At  last  our  anchors  caught  and  held 
us,  just  as  we  seemed  to  be  running  upon  those  high  clay 
banks  near  Cleveland,  and  there  we  outrode  the  storm,  and 
then  were  towed  into  port.  It  took  nerve  to  take  another 
steamer  the  following  evening  and  start  for  Detroit,  but 
there  was  no  alternative,  and  in  another  day,  after  an 
absence  of  nearly  two  years,  I  was  again  at  the  old  home 
in  Romeo.  The  next  day  I  drove  to  Pontiac,  twenty  miles 
away,  to  meet  my  Jenny  Windiate,  to  whom  I  had  been 
engaged  for  nearly  three  years.  We  were  married  nearly 
sixty  years  ago,  and  as  I  write  she  is  sitting  by  my  side. 

Closing  this  long  prelude,  I  come  now  to  the  subject  of 
my  story.  Up  to  this  time  I  had  not  the  least  idea  as  to 
where  I  would  commence  medical  practice.  I  had  a 
favorable  word  from  Racine,  in  Wisconsin,  but  my  means 
would  not  justify  a  removal  beyond  the  Lake.  I  had 
decided  to  look  for  a  place  not  far  away  and,  if  it  did  not 
prove  to  my  liking,  bide  my  time  there  until  I  should  be 
able  to  choose  a  permanent  location.  Having  this  in  view 
I  hired  a  good  saddle  horse  and  visited  six  county  sites 
while  crossing  the  State  of  Michigan,  but  in  not  one  of 
these  did  I  find  an  acceptable  opening.  There  seemed  in 

54 


a  location 


each  a  surplus  of  doctors  of  all  sorts,  sizes  and  creeds.     I 
reached    DeWitt,    Clinton    County,    and    another    day's 
ride  would  bring  me  to  Otisco,  where  Dr.  Levi  Day,  an 
associate  of  mine  when  reading  with  Dr.  Whitney,  was 
located.     I  arrived  at  his  home  at  ten  o'clock  on  one  of  the 
darkest  nights  I  have  ever  known.    A  day's  conference 
brought  this  result:   that  I  should  locate  with  him.    We 
were  to  share  the  proceeds  of  our  practice  equally.     He  was 
to  go  to  Cleveland  in  the  winter  and  graduate,  as  he  was 
longing  to  do.     Matters  at  once  took  shape.     I  could  here, 
in  this  thriving  newly  settled  country  get  the  initial  expe- 
rience which  in  the  absence  of  clinical  teaching  I  had  been 
unable  to  acquire  and  also  add  to  my  limited  stock  of  ready 
means.     I  lost  no  time  but  traveled  back  across  the  state 
with  a  feeling  of  content  such  as  I  had  hardly  ever  before 
known.       I  met  Jenny  at  her  home.      We  set  the  date 
for  our  marriage  and  the  next  day  I  was  in  Romeo,  after 
two  weeks  in  the  saddle.    Affairs  at  home  were  quickly 
arranged.     I  procured  a  splendid  riding  beast,  as  balky 
as  she  was  good.     I  bought  her  for  that  reason  for  fifty 
dollars,  and  gave  my  note,  due  two  years  later  with  interest 
in  payment.   An  ingenious  harness  maker  had  made  for  me 
an  extra  nice  pair  of  saddle  bags  and  with  this  outfit  to  be 
completed  at  Pontiac,  where  my  brother  Harvey  was  engaged 
in  a  drug  store,  I  started  out  without  as  much  knowledge 
of  my  profession  as  I  could  have  desired  but  bound  to 
succeed.     I    reached    Otisco,    Ionia    County,    Michigan, 
May  15,  1848.     The  next  day  I  made  my  first  professional 
visit.     My  patient  was  a  muscular  ten-year-old  boy  who 
was  supposed  to  be  poisoned  by  eating  a  noxious  weed. 

55 


of  €igljtp  tfearg 


I  held  him  down  by  main  force  and  gave  him  a  double 
dose  of  ipecac.  I  had  been  in  town  only  two  weeks  when 
I  was  waited  upon  by  a  committee  of  farmers  and  was 
requested  to  prepare  and  read  a  series  of  toasts  at  a  general 
celebration  on  the  4th  of  July  just  at  hand,  which  I  did, 
the  exercises  being  held  in  a  barn.  I  felt  quite  set  up  on 
that  occasion  when  I  heard  that  boy's  father  say  to  a 
neighbor:  "That  doctor  saved  my  boy's  life."  It  was  the 
prelude  to  other  calls,  and  the  crisis  was  passed. 


CHAPTER  IX 
COUNTRY  PRACTICE 

I  THINK  few  young  physicians  fail  to  remember  the 
varied  experiences  connected  with  their  first  year  of 
medical  practice.  I  surely  well  remember  mine.  Not 
having  had  the  benefit  of  clinical  instruction,  for  such  was 
not  afforded  by  the  medical  colleges  sixty  years  ago,  I  was 
often  thrown  upon  my  own  resources  in  the  translation 
of  teachings  and  books  into  actual  practice,  especially  as  I 
often  had  to  prescribe  for  patients  at  a  distance  from  home, 
and  with  no  possibility  for  consultation.  During  the 
summer  and  autumn  of  1848  the  diseases  which  I  met 
at  Otisco  were  nearly  all  of  the  malarial  type.  Four  miles 
distant  several  sawmills  had  recently  been  erected  and 
new  land  had  been  overflowed,  and  the  drawing  down  of 
these  ponds  every  day  caused  malarial  exhalations  that 
bred  disease  in  every  direction.  Besides,  the  entire  farming 
region  was  being  rapidly  converted  into  cultivated  fields, 
and  the  upturning  of  the  virgin  soil  was  an  equal  menace 
to  the  general  health.  Hardly  a  home  but  had  its  invalids, 
and  the  calls  for  medical  treatment  were  as  numerous  as 
the  most  ambitious  doctor  could  desire.  It  was  years 
later  that  Laveran,  of  Italy,  discovered  that  Plasmodium 
malariae  was  the  cause  of  all  this  trouble  and  that  quinine 
would  kill  the  invader.  I  then  only  knew  that  quinine 
would  cure  ague,  but  was  entirely  ignorant  of  the  why. 
But  for  my  practical  purpose  the  result  was  sufficient.  For 

57 


of 


two  hundred  years  the  "Jesuit  bark,"  named  for  its  dis- 
coverer, and  later  known  as  "Peruvian  bark,"  indicating 
the  source  of  supply,  and  later  as  quinine,  the  active  prin- 
ciple, had  been  used  empirically  until  the  discovery  made 
by  Laveran  only  twenty  years  ago. 

Nearly  all  of  the  diseases  which  I  was  first  called  upon  to 
treat  yielded  so  promptly  that  my  reputation  as  a  young 
practitioner  fresh  from  the  schools,  grew  in  favor  as  rapidly 
as  I  could  have  desired,  and  I  myself  began  to  harbor  the 
impression  that  I  was  quite  a  remarkable  physician  and 
could  cure  nearly  everybody  that  came  within  my  reach. 
But  when  the  winter  came,  and  when  one  and  another  of 
my  patients  dropped  away  with  acute  pneumonia,  and  a 
severe  epidemic  of  brain  fever,  as  it  was  then  called, 
invaded  our  settlement  and  suddenly  took  from  us  a  number 
of  our  most  prominent  citizens,  both  old  and  young,  I  was 
not  long  in  coming  down  from  my  high  perch,  and  began 
to  doubt  whether  I  could  cure  anybody.  Dr.  Day  was  now 
in  Cleveland  attending  medical  lectures,  and  I  had  the  field 
all  to  myself,  save  as  I  could  summon  counsel  from  Ionia, 
seventeen  miles  distant.  Still,  keeping  my  counsel  well 
to  myself,  I  was  able  to  hold  my  footing,  and  much  to  my 
surprise  the  people  had  more  confidence  hi  me  than  I  had 
in  myself.  I  surely  served  them  as  best  I  knew,  and  was 
grateful  for  their  fidelity.  I  have  been  engaged  in  medical 
practice  for  sixty  years  since  then,  and  during  that  period 
have  treated  many  thousands  of  patients,  but  never  since 
have  I  been  so  elated  as  during  that  first  summer,  nor  so 
distrustful  of  myself  as  during  that  first  winter.  I  flatter 
myself  in  looking  back  over  this  long  period  that  a  vast 

58 


Cotmtrp  practice 


number  of  my  patients  were  returned  to  health  through 
my  agency.  Just  how  many  recovered  in  spite  of  it  I  have 
never  been  able  to  determine.  I  have  this  to  say  in  passing, 
that  the  young  physician  in  the  city  who  can  at  once 
summon  the  aid  of  an  able  consultant,  and  with  him 
divide  the  responsibility  in  the  treatment  of  critical  cases, 
knows  nothing  of  the  trying  ordeal  which  confronts  the 
country  doctor.  But  such  experiences  are  not  without 
their  compensations.  Thrown  back  upon  his  own  re- 
sources he  develops  a  sturdy  self-reliance  which  could 
be  acquired  in  no  other  way,  and  many  a  suggestion  which 
has  been  a  help  to  me  through  life  came  from  the  lips 
of  a  rough  and  rugged  country  doctor. 

Who  but  cherishes  a  tender  regard  for  Dr.  Ephraim 
McDowell,  who  in  that  little  hamlet  of  Danville,  Kentucky, 
single-handed  and  alone,  performed  the  first  ovariotomy 
of  which  there  is  any  record  in  the  annals  of  surgery;  or  who, 
like  Sims,  fought  his  way  from  the  rounds  of  a  country 
practice  to  one  of  the  foremost  positions  in  the  world  as  a 
gynecologist?  It  was  Jenner,  a  country  doctor,  who  gave 
us  the  boon  of  vaccine.  It  was  Williams,  who  from  being  a 
country  doctor,  became  the  foremost  pathologist  of  his  time 
in  England.  And  so  the  list  could  be  extended  almost 
indefinitely  of  those  who  came  to  eminence  from  places  of 
comparative  obscurity.  Not  a  word  of  disparagement  for 
those  who  have  every  advantage  for  clinical  instruction 
and  the  command  of  able  consultants.  But  the  real  fibre 
of  the  man  is  surely  found  in  the  country  doctor. 

During  the  first  year  I  had  quite  an  extended  obstetrical 
practice,  and  some  cases  that  put  my  mettle  to  the  test,  but 

59 


of 


I  since  think  that  I  was  then  wise  in  not  being  over-officious, 
as  the  outcome  was  satisfactory. 

A  country  physician  twenty  miles  away  from  home,  in 
the  selection  of  remedies  is  limited  to  the  contents  of  his 
saddle  bags,  and  a  doctor  called  from  such  a  distance  is 
expected  to  do  something.  I  had  thus  been  called  and 
of  course  I  must  do.  The  case  was  that  of  a  little  boy  who 
had  been  bitten  by  a  venomous  snake.  In  all  that  region 
whiskey  was  a  popular  remedy  for  snake  bites,  and  of 
course  I  prescribed  whiskey.  The  old  fellows  gathered  from 
the  entire  neighborhood,  and  those  who  were  familiar  with 
that  article  heartily  endorsed  my  prescription,  and  agreed 
that  the  young  doctor  was  up  to  date  on  snakes.  But  it 
occurred  to  me  that  something  more  must  be  done,  since 
I  had  come  twenty  miles,  and  the  neighbors  could  have 
prescribed  whiskey  without  any  help  from  me.  So  I 
ransacked  my  brain  to  select  from  my  saddle  bags  some- 
thing a  little  above  their  comprehension.  It  was  purely 
a  matter  of  accident  that  I  hit  upon  a  bottle  containing 
aqua  ammonia  and  sweet  oil.  Its  repeated  application 
would  give  the  people  something  to  do,  and  the  fumes  of 
the  ammonia  would  convince  them  that  it  was  something 
"mighty  powerful."  That  snake  bite  gave  me  the  business 
of  that  neighborhood.  But  the  real  point  is  this:  the  Lon- 
don Lancet  some  thirty  years  later  quoted  at  length  an 
article  from  an  East  India  journal  stating  that  in  the 
treatment  of  snake  bites,  the  external  application  of  the 
spirits  of  ammonia  had  proved  to  be  one  of  the  most 
serviceable  remedies.  I  had  prescribed  better  than  I 
knew. 

60 


Country  practice 


Sixty  years  have  elapsed  since  that  time.  I  have  passed 
through  many  and  varied  experiences  in  a  city  which 
numbered  sixty  thousand  when  I  came  to  it  and  now 
contains  over  two  million  inhabitants.  I  have  been  familiar 
with  all  phases  of  city  practice,  with  hospitals  and  medical 
teachings,  and  all  these  experiences  are  pleasant  memories; 
but  in  all  this  time  I  have  never  forgotten  my  crude  and 
sometimes  amusing  experiences  during  my  first  year's 
practice  as  a  country  doctor. 


61 


CHAPTER  X 
MARRIAGE  AND  SETTLEMENT 

MY  engagement  with  Dr.  Day  contemplated  but  a 
single  year's  residence  in  Otisco,  a  newly  opened 
hamlet  in  Ionia  County,  Michigan,  and  of  course  it  was  a 
matter  of  serious  consideration  as  to  where  I  should  locate 
permanently.  In  the  early  summer,  in  company  with  the 
doctor,  I  visited  Grand  Rapids,  some  twenty  miles  from 
Otisco,  to  recruit  our  stock  of  medicine.  Though  to-day 
Grand  Rapids  numbers  more  than  one  hundred  thousand 
inhabitants  and  is  the  second  city  in  the  state,  it  then 
numbered  but  about  twelve  hundred  residents  all  told.  Its 
nearest  railroad  approach  was  forty  miles  away.  At  that 
early  day  it  had  the  tidy  and  thrifty  appearance  of  a  typical 
New  England  village.  I  was  strongly  impressed  that  if  I 
could  gain  a  footing  there  it  would  prove  just  the  place 
for  which  I  had  been  looking.  I  visited  the  village  a 
month  later  and  had  a  confidential  talk  with  the  leading 
druggist  at  that  place.  He  had  fitted  up  one  of  the  finest 
stores  to  be  found  in  the  State.  We  had  opened  quite  a  trade 
with  him  during  the  summer;  our  bills  had  been  promptly 
paid  and  he  seemed  to  take  kindly  to  me.  I  made  a  few 
inquiries  as  to  rent  and  the  cost  of  living,  and  returned  to 
Otisco  with  my  mind  made  up  to  make  Grand  Rapids  my 
home.  My  summer  experience  had  not  as  yet  suffered  its 
later  trials,  but  had  so  developed  my  courage  that,  doctor 
or  no  doctors  to  be  my  competitors,  patients  or  no  patients 

62 


Carriage  attfc  Settlement 


to  be  my  patrons,  I  was  willing  to  take  my  chances  at 
Grand  Rapids  when  my  contract  with  Dr.  Day  should 
terminate.  My  plans  now  began  to  take  definite  shape. 
In  September  I  made  a  hurried  ride  across  the  state  and 
met  Jenny  Windiate  at  her  home  at  Drayton  Plains.  We 
fixed  the  date  for  our  marriage  in  the  following  January. 
I  then  went  to  Romeo  and  conferred  with  mother  with  refer- 
ence to  the  sale  of  our  home  there  and  her  removal  to 
Grand  Rapids.  I  returned  immediately  to  Otisco  and 
resumed  medical  practice  while  Dr.  Day  was  in  Cleveland 
attending  medical  lectures,  as  had  been  stipulated.  In 
December  I  arranged  with  Dr.  Fallas,  a  neighboring  physi- 
cian, to  take  my  place  while  I  went  home  to  be  married. 
After  three  years  of  engagement  our  marriage  was  con- 
summated at  Drayton  Plains,  January  2,  1849,  RCV- 
Dr.  Wilson  of  Pontiac  officiating.  A  merry  company 
from  Romeo,  with  friends  of  Miss  Windiate,  joined  in  giving 
their  most  cordial  congratulations.  We  went  with  our 
friends  to  Romeo  and  I  remained  at  the  old  homestead  for 
six  weeks,  when  my  Otisco  engagement  called  me  thence. 
As  it  was  midwinter  and  there  were  no  public  conveyances 
across  the  state,  we  thought  it  best  that  Jenny,  for  the 
time,  should  remain  with  mother,  while  they  and  I  should 
be  perfecting  our  plans  for  removal  to  Grand  Rapids.  On 
May  i,  1849,  at  the  conclusion  of  my  engagement  with  Dr. 
Day,  I  returned  to  Romeo  and  was  ready  to  negotiate  a 
cash  sale  of  our  home,  possession  to  be  given  the  following 
September,  and  arrange  for  our  permanent  removal  at  that 
date.  Again  leaving  Jenny  and  mother  at  the  home,  I 
recrossed  the  state  to  Otisco,  this  being  my  seventh  journey 

63 


of 


over  that  route  on  horseback.  I  closed  up  business  matters 
as  best  I  could;  sold  my  balky  mare  to  Dr.  Fallas,  who  had 
arranged  to  take  my  place  with  Dr.  Day,  purchased  a  splen- 
did driving  horse,  and  was  ready  to  go  to  Grand  Rapids.  On 
the  i  ith  of  June,  1849, 1  lfif  t  Otisco  and  put  up  that  night  at 
the  National  Hotel,  kept  by  Canton  Smith,  in  Grand  Rapids. 
I  at  once  set  about  securing  a  desirable  location  in  which 
to  open  up  my  office.  It  was  my  good  fortune,  in  this 
land  of  strangers,  to  make  an  early  call  upon  Mr.  William 
G.  Henry,  then  the  most  prominent  justice  of  the  peace  in 
town.  I  was  able  to  secure  an  office  in  his  suite  of  rooms, 
and  better  yet,  to  obtain  board  in  his  own  family  as  a 
private  boarder.  Theirs  was  one  of  the  most  prominent 
families  in  the  place.  Our  acquaintance  was  from  the  first 
congenial,  and  their  influence  in  my  behalf  was  most  help- 
ful. The  first  patient  for  whom  I  prescribed  was  their 
daughter  Nettie,  a  sweet  little  girl  eight  years  of  age.  I 
may  say  that  later  she  was  the  wife  of  General  Alger,  who 
became  Governor  of  Michigan,  then  Secretary  of  War, 
and  finally  United  States  Senator.  Though  I  had  some 
homesick  days  at  first,  prospects  seemed  to  brighten,  and 
slowly  I  began  to  build  a  practice  which  in  six  years  ful- 
filled my  first  hope.  The  principal  of  a  young  ladies' 
private  school  was  suddenly  married,  when  I  had  been 
there  two  months,  and  the  vacancy  had  to  be  filled.  I 
conferred  with  Mrs.  Henry,  and  through  her  influence  my 
sister  Jeannette  came  at  once  to  supply  it.  That  position 
she  filled  with  marked  success,  and  remained  with  us  as  a 
teacher  until  her  marriage  with  Mr.  William  M.  Ferry  of 
Grand  Haven,  Michigan. 

64 


aiifc  Settlement 


The  final  removal  from  Romeo  was  made  in  September, 
and  in  a  neat  little  cottage  we  were  soon  duly  installed  at 
the  modest  rental  of  sixty-five  dollars  a  year,  and  quite  on  a 
par  with  our  neighbors;  but  that  was  sixty  years  ago,  the 
days  of  small  beginnings.  During  the  summer  months 
Jenny,  my  wife,  had  been  at  her  old  home  with  her  brother 
and  sister,  and  there  she  met  with  an  accident,  and  was 
so  severely  injured  that  it  was  not  prudent  for  her  to  make 
the  journey  until  November,  as  there  was  some  forty  miles 
of  staging  between  Grand  Rapids  and  the  nearest  railroad 
point.  But  the  change  was  then  successfully  made,  and 
on  Thanksgiving  Day,  1849,  we  sat  at  our  own  table,  a 
happy  family,  Jenny,  mother,  Sister  Jeannette  and  myself. 
To  the  development  of  my  medical  practice  I  gave  most 
asiduous  effort,  making  rides  twenty  miles  and  more  away 
and  also  gaining  a  desirable  practice  in  town.  In  1850  we 
were  able  to  purchase  a  desirable  house  and  lot  on  Fulton 
Street,  and  at  a  second  purchase  an  adjoining  lot  was 
secured,  thus  giving  us  a  frontage  of  one  hundred  feet  by  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet.  We  had  so  far  beautified  the  garden 
the  following  year  that  it  became  one  of  the  attractions  in 
the  town,  in  the  way  of  flowers,  shrubs,  and  vegetables. 

During  the  year  1851  my  brother  Harvey  James,  who  had 
been  a  drug  clerk,  came  to  occupy  a  position  in  a  dry  goods 
store  with  Mr.  William  H.  McConnell.  Soon  a  clerkship 
was  offered  in  a  drug  store,  where  he  remained  for  a  year. 
In  the  meantime  Mr.  Daniel  Ball  was  organizing  the  first 
bank  to  be  opened  in  the  place,  and  as  the  result  of  a  fine 
offer  brother  Harvey  became  his  clerk  and  cashier.  When 
the  First  National  Bank  was  organized  he  became  its 

65 


of  €igf)tp  Ifearg 


cashier  and  one  of  its  directors,  and  there  on  that  identical 
corner  where  the  first  bank  was  located  for  fifty-six  years, 
from  1852  to  the  present  date,  1908,  he  has  been  cashier, 
leading  director,  and  vice-president.  Beginning  with  a 
capital  of  twenty-five  thousand  dollars,  the  stock  of  that 
bank  from  time  to  time  has  been  increased,  and  now  with 
its  surplus  amounts  to  over  two  millions  of  dollars. 

The  special  event  in  our  history  at  that  date  was  the 
advent  of  a  beautiful  baby  boy,  to  whom  we  gave  the  name 
John  Emmett.  John  was  the  name  of  our  first  ancestor 
and  of  his  eldest  son.  It  was  the  name  of  my  father,  and 
it  was  my  name  also.  Emmett  Hollister  of  Rochester, 
New  York,  was  my  favorite  cousin.  So  much  for  name's 
sake.  Johnnie  became  an  active  little  fellow  and  we  all 
loved  him  dearly.  Of  him  I  shall  speak  later. 

In  six  years  my  first  hope  had  been  realized.  Our  village 
had  become  a  city  of  two  thousand  inhabitants,  and  it  was 
evident  that  we  should  soon  be  in  direct  railroad  communi- 
cation with  the  outside  world.  Here,  by  close  attention  to 
my  profession,  I  could  acquire  a  comfortable  competence, 
but  in  a  comparatively  limited  field.  I  was  conscious  of  a 
constantly  increasing  desire  to  be  so  located  as  to  be  in 
touch  with  a  superior  class  of  medical  men,  with  hospitals, 
and  with  medical  societies.  Railroad  connections  were 
now  established  between  Chicago  and  the  East,  and  that 
city  was  now  forging  ahead  by  leaps  and  bounds.  It 
seemed  to  me  the  time  and  the  place  to  realize  my  desire. 
In  1854  I  came  to  Chicago  and  conferred  with  a  few 
physicians  whom  I  had  known,  and  determined  to  make 
my  home  in  Chicago  as  soon  as  the  change  could  be  effected. 

66 


CHAPTER  XI 
REMOVAL  TO  CHICAGO 

WE  closed  our  home  in  Grand  Rapids,  April  10,  1855, 
having  sold  it  to  my  brother  Harvey,  with  whom 
our  mother  was  to  reside  during  that  summer,  while  my 
wife  and  Johnnie  were  to  be  with  her  sister,  Mrs.  Townsend 
of  Battle  Creek,  Michigan,  until  I  could  make  provision 
for  a  home  in  Chicago.  It  was  not  without  misgiving  that 
I  was  relinquishing  a  sure  thing  for  an  uncertainty.  I  was 
laying  down  an  active  practice  to  build  again  anew,  and 
that  among  strangers,  and  in  a  city  where  competition 
was  sure  to  be  most  strenuous.  During  the  summer  I 
procured  day  board  at  the  Matteson  House,  and  roomed 
in  connection  with  my  office,  which  was  located  in  Metro- 
politan Hall.  In  October  Jenny  joined  me  and  we  boarded 
with  Mr.  Rufus  Hatch,  later  a  prominent  banker  in  New 
York  City.  In  1856  I  purchased  a  lot  and  built  a  pretty 
cottage  at  192  West  Washington  Street,  and  again  we 
resumed  housekeeping.  The  West  side  was  rapidly 
growing  in  population  and  I  was  soon  able  to  secure  a  very 
satisfactory  medical  practice.  Our  home  to  us  was  very 
pleasant,  and  many  of  our  former  friends  in  their  coming 
and  going  were  our  welcome  guests. 

Here,  on  May  i,  1858,  we  met  our  first  great  sorrow. 
Our  dear  little  boy  had  "suffered  severely  from  whooping 
cough.  This  was  followed  by  a  fatal  attack  of  cerebro- 
spinal  meningitis.  The  light  of  our  home  went  out,  and 

67 


ie^  of  <£i$)tp  fears 


we  were  childless.  He  had  gladdened  our  hearts  for  five 
years.  Such  grief  is  only  known  by  those  with  like  expe- 
rience. Yet,  stricken  as  we  were,  we  were  able  to  say, 
"Thy  will  be  done." 

A  year  later  little  Nettie  was  born  to  us,  but  was  ours 
only  for  a  single  month,  when  she  too  was  bidden  home,  and 
for  a  second  time  we  were  childless  and  our  home  was 
desolate. 

As  I  came  to  know  the  city  better  I  was  confident  that 
in  the  end  a  location  in  the  South  division  would  prove 
most  desirable  for  a  permanent  home.  So,  having  rented 
our  house,  for  a  year  we  took  rooms  and  boarded  at  the 
Stewart  House,  corner  Washington  and  State  streets,  and 
here  our  daughter  Belle  was  born. 

In  1864  I  sold  my  West  side  home  and  purchased  one 
known  as  30  East  Washington  Street.  It  was  in  a  brick 
block,  with  a  frontage  of  twenty-three  and  one  half  feet,  and 
a  depth  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet.  The  house  was 
three  stories  and  basement,  with  a  brick  barn  in  the  rear. 
The  cost  was  eight  thousand  five  hundred  dollars.  Three 
years  later,  without  much  thought,  I  was  induced  to  put 
upon  it  a  price  of  fourteen  thousand  dollars  and  its  free  use 
for  two  years,  and  it  was  taken  before  I  had  time  for  second 
thought.  That  property  is  now  valued  at  eight  thousand 
a  front  foot,  but  that  was  nearly  fifty  years  ago  and  was 
considered  at  that  time  a  good  sale.  This  led  to  the  pur- 
chase of  three  hundred  and  fourteen  feet  on  Rhodes  Avenue 
at  fifty  dollars  per  front  foot.  In  1868  I  built  the  house, 
number  3426  Rhodes  Avenue,  intending  to  make  this  our 
permanent  home,  but,  suffering  from  a  severe  accident 

68 


ftcmobai  to  Chicago 


which  imperiled  my  life,  I  was  obliged  to  suspend  business 
entirely  and  seek  a  residence  in  a  milder  climate.  I  sold 
the  house  and  sixty  feet  of  ground,  taking  in  part  a  house 
to  be  constructed  for  me  at  Riverside.  The  fall  from 
which  I  suffered  occurred  in  April,  1869.  For  two  months 
I  was  by  the  physicians  considered  to  be  in  a  very  critical 
condition,  but,  slowly  recovering,  it  was  deemed  desirable 
that  I  should  be  conveyed  to  a  cooler  climate,  and  was 
removed  to  Mackinaw.  I  went  from  Chicago  one  day 
when  the  thermometer  registered  102°  in  the  shade.  I 
was  hardly  better  in  November  when  we  decided  to  spend 
the  winter  in  Louisiana.  I  returned  to  Riverside  somewhat 
improved,  and  we  occupied  our  new  home  there  in  April, 
1870.  While  living  at  Riverside  the  Chicago  fire  occurred, 
on  the  gth  of  October,  1871,  in  which  my  library,  contain- 
ing twelve  hundred  volumes,  my  medical  papers,  my 
instruments,  and  office  furniture  were  consumed.  Of  all 
my  medical  outfit  only  my  pocket  case,  which  I  carried 
with  me,  remained.  My  health  was  being  slowly  regained, 
and  I  made  an  effort  to  do  a  little  business,  though  my  for- 
mer patients  were  scattered  far  and  wide.  I  opened  an 
office  with  Dr.  Bingham  on  State  Street,  corner  of  Eigh- 
teenth, at  the  south  edge  of  the  fire  limit,  and  took  board 
for  wife  and  Belle  with  Mrs.  Heron,  on  Michigan  Avenue, 
near  Twenty-second  Street,  for  one  year.  Later,  for  two 
years,  we  boarded  at  the  Atherton  House,  then  resumed 
housekeeping  for  five  years  in  the  Follansbee  Block,  near 
Twenty-second  Street,  and  in  1879  we  built  another  home 
on  Rhodes  Avenue,  on  ground  which  I  still  hold,  and  is 
known  as  3430.  Here  we  have  lived  from  1880.  Here 

69 


of  €igf)tp  i  earg 


our  daughter  Belle  was  married  to  Dr.  Franklin  H.  Martin, 
May  27,  1886.  Here  our  mother  died,  after  a  lingering 
sickness,  June  12,  1890,  aged  ninety-two  years.  Here 
Jenny,  my  wife,  suffered  from  the  removal  of  a  large 
ovarian  tumor  in  1887,  and  again  from  a  removal  of  a 
portion  of  the  large  intestine  in  1898.  From  each  of  these 
operations  she  has  made  good  recovery.  Here  we  relin- 
quished homekeeping,  and  in  October,  1899,  we  began  a 
series  of  winter  visits  to  California. 


CHAPTER  XII 

FIFTY  YEARS'   MEDICAL  PRACTICE  IN 
CHICAGO 

T  HAD  graduated  from  the  Berkshire  Medical  College 
•*-  in  1847;  one  year  °f  practice  in  Otisco  and  six  years  of 
practice  in  Grand  Rapids  had  prepared  the  way  for  my 
permanent  settlement  in  Chicago.  It  is  the  purpose  of  this 
chapter  to  outline  very  briefly  the  manner  in  which,  during 
a  half  century,  I  have  been  engaged  in  medical  and  surgical 
practice,  in  college  lecturing  and  in  clinical  instruction  in 
the  wards  of  the  hospitals.  My  relations  with  medical 
societies  will  require  another  chapter.  For  five  years  after 
my  arrival  in  Chicago  my  home  was  located  at  192  West 
Washington  Street,  while  I  also  had  an  office  on  the  South 
side.  The  population  in  the  West  division  was  being  rapid- 
ly multiplied  by  new  arrivals  and  a  satisfactory  local 
practice  began  to  develop  from  the  first.  An  office  down 
town  enabled  me  to  make  the  acquaintance  of,  and  come  in 
close  touch  with,  the  principal  physicians  of  the  city  who 
were  located  in  like  manner. 

In  1862  it  had  become  apparent  that,  looking  forward  to 
future  years,  a  residence  in  the  South  division  would  be 
preferable.  For  the  time  it  involved  the  surrender  of  a  good 
share  of  my  family  practice,  although  for  several  years 
many  of  my  best  patrons  continued  to  call  me  to  the  West 
side.  Though  I  shall  have  occasion  later  to  speak  of  a 
limited  surgical  experience,  my  preference  had  been  to  en- 

71 


of  <£igf)tp 


gage  in  the  general  family  practice  of  medicine.  This,  in  a 
word,  has  been  my  purpose,  steadily  adhered  to  for  over 
fifty  years.  I  rarely  took  time  for  a  vacation,  except  for 
attendance  upon  the  meetings  of  State  and  National 
societies,  until  within  the  last  few  years.  I  might  write 
a  volume,  were  that  my  purpose,  of  matters  pertaining  to 
family  practice.  Very  near  and  dear,  nay  sacred,  are 
many  of  the  relations  that  pertain  to  the  family  doctor 
and  his  patients.  My  early  records  were  all  consumed  in 
the  fire  which  occurred  in  1871,  but  as  nearly  as  I  can  esti- 
mate with  those  that  went  before,  and  in  connection  with 
subsequent  ones,  I  have  attended  a  little  over  two  thousand 
cases  in  confinement,  and  as  I  look  back  I  wonder  that  re- 
sults were  as  fortunate  as  they  were.  For  forty  years  I 
did  not  suspect  the  existence  of  a  microbe.  I  knew  only 
too  well  the  possibility  of  infection,  but  the  manner  of  its 
transmission  was  yet  to  be  discovered. 

I  remember  well  when  the  stethoscope  began  to  be 
utilized  in  the  study  of  diseases  of  the  lungs.  As  late  as 
1855  Professor  Brainard,  in  Rush  Medical  College,  advised 
students  not  to  put  too  much  trust  in  the  revelations  of  the 
microscope,  saying:  "I  think  if  you  have  a  fruitful 
imagination  you  can  find  almost  anything  you  are  looking 
for."  But  from  then  until  now  the  advances  in  medicine 
and  surgery  have  been  simply  marvelous.  In  fact,  during 
this  period  any  text-book  ten  years  old,  if  not  revised,  is 
not  a  competent  authority.  But  I  bear  witness  that  in 
my  childhood  days  there  were  physicians  not  a  few  that 
had  a  wisdom  not  written  in  the  books.  Their  practice  was 
largely  empirical,  but  nevertheless  they  were  skillful  in 

72 


practice  in 


the  handling  of  diseases.  They  could  read  more  in  a  facial 
expression  than  do  many  of  the  physicians  of  to-day. 
Their  general  survey  took  in  the  essential  organs,  and  this 
general  knowledge  gave  them  a  decided  advantage  over 
many  a  specialist  now  in  practice.  Specialists  are  a  neces- 
sity and  are  not  to  be  ruled  out,  but  for  the  all-round  needs 
of  the  family  the  old  family  doctor  will  have  the  last  smile. 
He  may  disappear  for  the  time,  but  he  will  come  back  again, 
and  when  he  does  he  will  come  to  stay. 

Limited  as  were  the  former  facilities,  no  physician 
worthy  the  name  but  has  witnessed  with  delight  the 
rapid  advancement  made  during  the  last  twenty-five 
years.  The  mysteries  of  infection  during  that  time  have 
been  solved.  Preventive  medicine  has  become  the  chief 
vocation.  Asepsis  renders  antisepsis  needless.  The  pain 
which  comes  with  the  knife  is  no  longer  a  dread,  and  the 
average  of  life  is  every  year  extended.  Though  knowledge 
be  increased  and  the  superabundance  of  wealth  is  becoming 
an  embarrassment,  yet  the  ministries  of  medicine  outweigh 
them  all.  Witness  the  sanitation,  not  only  of  hospitals, 
but  of  cities;  witness  the  control  of  yellow  fever  in  Cuba, 
and  the  immunity  of  those  who  built  the  Panama  Canal. 
As  I  look  back  over  the  past  years  I  marvel  that  such  prog- 
ress has  been  made,  and  I  wonder  if  the  world  will  ever 
witness  the  like  in  the  same  number  of  years  to  come. 

My  surgical  experience,  in  comparison  with  that  con- 
nected with  medical  practice,  has  been  limited.  The  teach- 
ing of  anatomy  had  well  prepared  me  for  surgical  practice, 
but  as  that  was  never  my  preference  it  was  only  as  an 
emergency  seemed  to  require  it  that  I  entered  the  surgical 

73 


Jttemorieg  of  <£igf)tp  tear£ 


field.  A  good  deal  of  minor  surgery  had,  of  course,  fallen 
to  my  lot,  but  not  until  the  period  of  the  Civil  War  did  duty 
seem  to  demand  surgical  work  at  my  hands. 

When  the  Soldiers'  Home  was  established  in  Chicago  I 
was  requested  to  take  charge  of  both  its  medical  and  surgical 
departments.  That  position  I  held  for  four  years,  and  that 
without  assistance,  save  by  a  relay  of  medical  students  to 
serve  as  internes,  nor  did  I  for  such  service  receive  a  dollar 
in  compensation.  My  chief  work  was  that  of  caring  for 
invalid  and  wounded  soldiers  returning  from  the  South. 
This  Home  was  a  resting  place  until  they  were  so  far  re- 
covered as  to  be  sent  safely  to  their  respective  homes  to 
complete  their  recovery.  Of  course,  holding  this  position, 
a  large  amount  of  secondary  surgical  work  fell  to  my  lot. 
Resections  of  almost  every  sort,  and  secondary  amputa- 
tions almost  without  number  were  required.  I  did  not 
remember  the  fact,  but  the  celebrated  Dr.  Nicholas  Senn, 
at  a  recent  banquet,  stated  that  it  was  when  I  was  holding 
the  forceps  that  he  did  his  first  surgical  work  by  tying  an 
artery.  These  were  four  eventful  years  of  hard  work  when 
added  to  my  private  practice,  and  they  were  rich  in  surgical 
experience.  During  the  two  years  that  my  lifelong  com- 
panion, Dr.  Edmund  Andrews,  was  in  the  field  as  a  surgical 
director,  I  was  requested  to  take  his  place  as  Surgeon-in- 
Chief  in  Mercy  Hospital.  At  this  period  it  fell  to  my 
lot  to  perform  a  large  number  of  capital  operations  and  to 
give  clinical  lectures  in  connection  with  them.  After  the 
battle  of  Fort  Donelson  I  went  as  a  volunteer  surgeon  to  assist 
in  caring  for  the  wounded  at  Paducah,  where  the  churches 
were  turned  into  hospitals  and  filled  with  cots.  At  the 

74 


;#tet>ical  $tartice  in  Chicago 


conclusion  of  this  work,  as  more  fighting  was  anticipated 
near  at  hand  I  was  commissioned  by  General  Sherman  to 
superintend  the  removal  of  a  boatload  of  convalescents  from 
Cairo  to  Louisville  and  Cincinnati,  and  was  in  command 
of  the  boat.  I  had  a  captain  who  was  wondrous  kind,  and 
all  went  well.  In  due  time  Dr.  Andrews  returned  and  re- 
sumed his  position  as  surgeon  at  Mercy  Hospital,  and  I 
went  back  to  medical  practice.  I  should  also  state  that, 
while  having  charge  of  the  Soldiers  Home,  I  also  held  the 
position  of  contract  physician  (Colonel  Mulligan  in  com- 
mand) at  Camp  Douglas,  where  fourteen  thousand  Confed- 
erates were  confined.  My  ward  contained  sixty  beds,  and 
I  went  through  it  thoroughly  every  day.  Many  a  message 
was  taken  down  by  me  from  poor  sick  men  doomed  to  die, 
with  the  hope  that  dear  ones  at  home  might  have  a  last 
tender  word  from  their  imprisoned  boys.  From  some  of 
these  many  messages  I  have  had  grateful  expressions  in 
later  years.  We  had  a  severe  whiter;  at  best  the  im- 
provised barracks  were  cold;  the  Southern  men  were  not 
inured  to  such  a  change,  and  many  perished  from  pneumonia. 
On  Sunday  mornings  in  our  ward  we  held  simple  Bible  read- 
ing and  prayer  service.  We  had  little  use  for  creeds,  but 
we  all  had  common  needs,  and  the  place  and  hour  seemed 
fitting  for  seeking  their  supply. 


75 


of 


from  1857  to  1894,  a  period  of  thirty-seven  years,  I  was 
continuously  engaged,  with  the  exception  of  one  year, 
when  I  was  laid  by  by  reason  of  an  accident,  in  medical 
teaching.  The  students  whom  I  met  year  by  year,  and 
always  pleasantly,  have  gone  world-wide  in  the  practice  of 
our  profession,  and  with  hardly  an  exception  have  highly 
honored  their  alma  mater.  Many  have  grown  gray  in 
active  service,  and  many,  oh  so  many,  have  been  called 
to  lay  down  earthly  cares  and  are  with  us  no  more.  And 
our  professors  —  they  have  gone.  Not  one  of  the  faculty 
of  Rush  with  whom  I  was  associated  is  living.  The  old 
faculty  of  Lind  University  have  all  gone,  and  not  one 
of  my  associates  as  charter  members  of  the  Chicago 
Medical  College  remains. 

I  seem  like  one  who  treads  alone, 

Some  banquet  hall  deserted; 
Whose  lights  are  fled,  whose  garlands  dead, 

And  all  but  me  departed. 

This  seems  to  me  very  literally  true,  as  now  in  1909, 
I,  in  my  eighty-fifth  year,  still  linger,  the  last  "of  the  old 
guards."  In  this  connection  I  look  back  upon  a  life  of 
labor.  None  but  those  who  have  traveled  the  same  road 
can  appreciate  its  cost,  so  to  keep  abreast  with  the  rapid 
strides  which  in  that  time  have  been  made,  as  to  warrant 
the  holding  of  a  professor's  chair. 

I  was  a  candidate  for  graduation  when  Dr.  Warren  of 
Boston  first  used  ether  as  an  anaesthetic.  In  my  early  days 
it  was  deemed  a  fatal  deed  to  explore  the  abdominal  cavity. 
Cleanliness  was  enjoined,  but  the  whole  list  of  antiseptics 
was  unknown;  and  it  was  far  along  in  the  course  of  my 

78 


Ceasing 


teaching  before  the  microbe  was  discovered,  or  that 
malarial  fevers  were  dependent  upon  the  plasmodium, 
which  Laveran  discovered  some  twenty  years  ago.  With 
most  of  us  it  requires  the  consumption  of  midnight  oil  lest 
we  become  back  numbers. 


79 


CHAPTER  XIII 
MEDICAL  TEACHING 

MY  first  experience  in  medical  teaching  dates  from 
September,  1857,  when  I  was  appointed  Demonstra- 
tor of  Anatomy  in  Rush  Medical  College.  The  exposures 
and  real  dangers  I  underwent  in  the  fulfilment  of  duties 
connected  with  that  position  seem  almost  incredible.  The 
procuring  of  subjects  for  anatomical  teaching  was  some- 
times at  the  peril  of  life.  At  that  period  nothing  in  a 
community  would  so  incite  a  mob  as  the  invasion  of  a 
graveyard.  It  was  at  a  time,  too,  when  not  even  the  failure 
of  the  regular  lectures  would  so  soon  bring  discredit  to 
a  medical  college  as  the  failure  to  provide  subjects  for 
dissection,  and  the  demonstrator  was  responsible  for  the 
supply.  It  is  needless  to  speak  of  the  decoy  letters,  of 
shadowings  by  police,  of  the  mutilation  of  subjects  in  the 
darkness  of  the  night  to  prevent  their  recognition  when 
the  authorities  were  about  to  pounce  down  upon  our 
college  on  a  voyage  of  discovery.  I  might  speak  of  visits 
to  other  cities  and  the  sending  home  of  barrels  marked 
"Chemical  Erasive  Soap"  so  that  the  contents  might  not 
be  betrayed  by  the  odor.  Only  once  was  my  life,  I  think, 
really  in  danger,  and  that  was  when  I  approached  a  half- 
open  grave  and  one  of  my  helpers,  deaf  as  an  adder,  grasped 
his  hatchet  to  brain  me,  mistaking  me  for  a  policeman. 
I  threw  my  hat  in  his  face;  he  recognized  it  and  sank 
down  in  complete  collapse.  We  got  our  quota  of  subjects 

76 


Cent  lung 


all  right.  To  prove  to  myself  that  I  could  do  it,  I  went  one 
dark  night  and  procured  a  subject  all  alone.  I  did  it 
then,  but  I  don't  think  I  would  do  it  again. 

My  college  and  hospital  connections  have  been  as  follows : 

In  1857  I  was  appointed  Demonstrator  of  Anatomy  in 
Rush  Medical  College. 

In  1859  I  severed  my  connection  there  to  accept  the 
chair  of  Descriptive  Anatomy  in  the  Medical  Department 
of  Lind  University. 

In  1862  I  occupied  the  chair  of  Materia  Medica  then 
made  vacant,  the  more  to  perfect  myself  for  medical 
practice.  In  1864  I  was  requested  to  take  the  chair  of 
Physiology  and  Public  Hygiene. 

In  1866,  at  my  request,  I  was  appointed  Professor  of 
Pathology  and  Public  Hygiene,  and  held  that  chair  for 
seventeen  years  in  the  Chicago  Medical  College,  when  I 
resigned  from  didactic  teaching.  At  that  date,  1883,  I 
was  appointed  Clinical  Professor  of  Medicine,  and  for 
eleven  years  devoted  my  time  to  bedside  instruction  in 
Mercy  Hospital.  I  was  made  a  member  of  the  Medical 
Staff  in  Mercy  Hospital  in  1860,  and  held  that  position 
continuously  until  my  final  resignation  in  1894,  a  period 
of  thirty-four  years.  In  1894,  upon  my  retiring  from  active 
service,  I  was  given  the  title  of  Emeritus  Professor  of 
Clinical  Medicine,  and  I  still  continue  to  sign  diplomas 
of  the  Northwestern  Medical  School.  For  two  years,  at 
an  earlier  date,  I  was  appointed  upon  the  medical  staff 
of  the  Cook  County  Hospital,  and  for  that  time  served 
as  Chairman  of  the  Medical  and  Surgical  Staff.  Political 
changes  led  to  the  retirement  of  the  entire  staff.  Thus, 

77 


CHAPTER  XIV 
MEDICAL  SOCIETIES 

TOURING  the  years  of  my  medical  life  it  has  been  my 
•*— '  pleasure  to  be  closely  affiliated  with  medical  societies. 
During  the  six  years  of  my  residence  in  Grand  Rapids, 
Michigan,  the  physicians  located  on  Grand  River,  though 
few  in  number,  were  able  to  organize  a  medical  society 
which  for  the  time  was  interesting  and  profitable.  The 
Chicago  Medical  Society  was  well  organized  when  I 
came  to  the  city  in  1855.  The  year  following  I  was  elected 
Secretary,  and  for  some  time  held  that  position.  The 
Society  had  varied  experiences,  but  never  in  the  early  days 
was  a  minority  of  its  members,  though  so  inclined,  able 
to  organize  and  sustain  a  rival  society.  The  members 
of  the  faculty  of  Rush  Medical  College  were  among  its  most 
active  promoters,  and  several  were  lifelong  members. 
In  a  medical  history  which  I  have  recently  prepared  for 
publication  in  connection  with  the  work  entitled  "History 
of  Chicago, "  published  by  Lewis  &  Brothers,  I  have  given 
a  pretty  full  list  of  the  most  prominent  members,  and  it 
need  not  be  repeated  here.  The  society  was  for  a  time 
at  low  ebb,  but  was  again  revived,  and  now,  with  a  central 
head  and  its  affiliated  societies,  it  has  become  the  largest 
medical  society  in  the  United  States.  It  was  my  pleasure 
to  serve  in  the  early  days  as  one  of  its  Presidents,  and 
often  one  of  its  delegates  to  the  State  and  National 
societies. 

80 


j&tbital 


My  membership  in  the  Illinois  State  Medical  Society 
dates  from  1857.  At  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Society 
held  in  Rockford  in  1907,  it  was  the  pleasure  of  the  Scoiety 
to  present  me  an  unique  and  beautiful  autograph  volume, 
commemorating  the  fiftieth  year  of  my  connection  with 
the  Society.  Of  course  it  is  a  gift  which  I  prize  above 
measure,  expressing  us  it  does  for  me  the  very  kind  wishes 
of  my  associates  and  containing  the  autographs  of  over 
two  hundred  physicians  representing  every  part  of  the 
State.  I  was  made  President  of  the  Society  twenty-five 
years  ago,  and  for  twenty-two  consecutive  years,  except 
when  acting  as  President,  I  served  as  Treasurer  of  the 
Society  and  published  its  transactions. 

I  first  joined  the  American  Medical  Association  in 
Louisville  in  1858,  and  in  the  successive  years  have 
attended  its  sessions  in  nearly  every  prominent  city  in 
the  Union.  During  later  years  I  became  more  close- 
ly associated  with  it  in  an  official  capacity,  serving  for  eight 
years  as  one  of  its  Trustees,  and  for  two  years  as  Editor 
of  its  journal.  With  Dr.  Nathan  Smith  Davis,  who  by 
common  consent  was  termed  the  "Father  of  the  Associa- 
tion," I  held  most  intimate  relations  for  forty  years  in 
college  and  hospital  teaching,  and  it  was  largely  through 
his  influence  that  I  came  to  occupy  a  somewhat  con- 
spicuous position  in  connection  with  these  meetings  of 
the  association,  bringing  me  in  close  relation  with  a  large 
number  of  the  most  prominent  physicians  and  surgeons 
of  our  country.  The  privilege  of  such  associations  has 
been  one  of  the  special  pleasures  of  my  professional  life. 
I  was  called  to  preside  over  the  section  of  Medicine,  and  gave 

81 


of 


the  annual  address  before  the  association  at  Cleveland, 
I  think,  in  1888. 

It  has  never  been  my  good  fortune  to  attend  any  of  the 
International  Medical  Congresses  when  held  in  foreign 
countries.  I  was  a  delegate  from  Illinois  to  the  one  held 
in  Philadelphia  in  1876,  at  which  time  Dr.  Samuel  Gross 
was  the  presiding  officer. 

One  of  the  strongest  ties  which  helped  to  bind  the 
people  of  our  country  together  during  the  Civil  War  was 
the  fraternal  feeling  maintained  by  the  medical  profession ; 
and  though  they  had  been  combatants  on  the  field,  it  was 
marvelous  how  soon  they  were  again  comrades  when 
brought  face  to  face  in  meetings  of  the  association. 
Nothing  so  much  as  this  could  have  demonstrated  the 
loyalty  of  the  association.  The  commonwealth  is  far  more 
indebted  to  the  influence  of  medical  societies  than  it  has 
yet  had  power  to  express. 


CHAPTER  XV 
CHURCH   MEMBERSHIP 

ROMEO,  Michigan,  is  situated  forty  miles  north  of 
Detroit.  When  our  people  settled  there  in  1827, 
only  a  half  dozen  families  lived  within  hailing  distance  and 
the  post-office  bore  the  name  of  Indian  Village.  It  received 
its  present  name  and  was  incorporated  in  1830.  Through 
the  agency  of  Father  Ruggles,  who  resided  in  Pontiac,  a 
Congregational  Church  was  organized  in  1829.  It  num- 
bered only  nine  members  at  first,  including  my  grand- 
father, Gad  Chamberlin,  and  my  mother.  Grandmother 
Chamberlin  and  two  of  the  daughters  had  united  with  the 
Methodist  Church  which  had  been  previously  organized. 
In  1831,  the  year  of  my  father's  death,  the  church  had 
succeeded  in  securing  the  Rev.  Luther  Shaw  as  a  settled 
pastor.  At  a  communion  service  later  in  that  year,  mother 
stood  before  the  altar  with  her  three  little  children,  Jean- 
nette,  Harvey  and  myself  and  received  the  ordinance  of 
baptism.  I  well  remember  the  occasion,  for  I  was  then 
seven  years  old.  In  1837  a  powerful  religious  revival 
occurred  extending  its  influence  to  that  region  of  country. 
On  a  single  Sabbath  fifty-two  persons  were  added  to  the 
Congregational  Church  and  other  churches  were  blessed  in 
like  manner.  I  was  one  of  the  number  of  those  who  united 
with  the  church  at  that  time.  I  was  then  thirteen  years 
old.  Our  home  was  in  close  proximity  to  the  church,  and 
for  several  years  previously  I  had  been  the  sweeper  of  the 

83 


of 


church  and  the  bell  ringer  for  the  town  at  a  salary  of  three 
dollars  a  month;  and  with  that  salary  I  had  paid  for  my 
clothes.  From  its  early  settlement  Romeo  had  been  very  like 
a  typical  New  England  village.  Religious  influences  were 
strongly  predominant,  and  the  environments  were  such 
as  to  largely  protect  young  people  from  evil  influences. 
It  was  a  long  time  before  a  saloon  found  its  way  there; 
and  as  to  smoking  and  drinking,  I  do  not  remember  a  single 
individual  of  our  younger  set  who  indulged  in  either  of 
those  habits,  and  the  habits  there  formed  have  influenced 
me  for  life. 

.  In  1849,  when  I  settled  in  Grand  Rapids,  I  transferred 
my  membership  to  the  Congregational  Church  at  that 
place.  I  was  a  member  of  the  choir  while  there,  and  one 
of  the  Trustees.  For  three  years  before  leaving  there  I 
was  made  Superintendent  of  the  Sabbath  school,  which 
numbered  three  hundred  pupils,  and  was  a  school  after 
my  own  heart.  At  my  departure  I  received  a  beautiful 
silver  pitcher,  which  has  been  in  service  for  fifty  years,  and 
bears  this  inscription:  "To  our  beloved  S.  S.  Superintend- 
ent, Dr.  John  H.  Hollister,  Grand  Rapids,  Michigan,  1855." 
In  1856,  after  our  removal  to  192  West  Washington 
Street,  Chicago,  we  united  with  the  First  Congregational 
Church,  then  located  at  the  corner  of  Green  and  Washing- 
ton Streets.  Rev.  George  W.  Perkins,  a  man  greatly 
beloved,  was  the  pastor,  and  it  was  my  great  sorrow  to  be 
his  physician  when  he  suddenly  died  of  acute  peritonitis. 
Few  pastors  gained  such  a  strong  hold  upon  their  members 
and  the  community  at  large,  as  did  he.  This  was  the 


84 


Onrrfc 


pioneer  Congregational  Church  in  Chicago,  and  was  largely 
made  up  of  members  from  other  churches  who  were  out- 
spoken opponents  to  slavery  and  refused  to  be  represented 
in  a  presbytery  where  the  question  of  slavery  was  ignored. 
Beside  these,  constant  additions  were  being  made  from 
people  newly  arrived.  The  activity  of  these  was  best 
evinced  by  the  hearty  manner  in  which  they  entered  into 
the  development  of  mission  Sunday  schools  to  which  I 
shall  have  occasion  to  refer  later. 

When  we  came  to  reside  on  the  South  side  we  transferred 
our  membership  to  Plymouth  Church,  uniting  there  on 
January  i,  1864.  This  has  been  our  church  home  for 
forty-five  years  and  through  all  its  varied  vicissitudes  and 
labors  we  have  been  closely  identified  with  its  interests. 
Multitudes  of  people  have  come  and  gone,  numbers  have 
been  called  to  their  reward,  and  now  besides  Mrs.  Hollister 
and  myself,  I  know  of  but  one  remaining  who  was  a  mem- 
ber when  we  united  there.  Since  uniting  with  Plymouth 
Church,  our  successive  pastors  have  been:  Rev.  H.  D. 
Kitchell,  who  came  to  us  from  Detroit  and  greatly  strength- 
ened us  in  the  days  of  our  weakness.  When  he  was  called 
to  the  Presidency  of  Middlebury  College,  Rev.  Lewis 
Matson,  from  Madison,  Wisconsin,  became  his  successor. 
He  came  to  us  in  the  beauty  and  loveliness  of  his  youth, 
but  the  seeds  of  fatal  disease  were  soon  manifest.  He 
sought  relief  in  the  climate  of  Southern  Italy  but  died  in 
Lyons,  France,  in  1868.  Rev.  William  Alvan  Barlett, 
from  Brooklyn,  New  York,  was  next  called  and  under  his 
administration  our  church  was  greatly  prospered.  He 


of  <£i0f)tp  ffearg 


was  with  us  at  the  time  of  the  Chicago  fire  and  came  with 
us  to  26th  Street  when  Plymouth  and  the  South  Church 
were  united,  and  was  active  in  all  that  pertained  to  the 
building  of  our  present  edifice  on  Michigan  avenue. 
Rev.  Charles  H.  Everest  was  his  successor,  and  remained 
with  the  church  for  eight  years.  Then  it  was  our  good 
fortune  to  secure  as  our  pastor  the  Rev.  Henry  M.  Scudder, 
D.  D.,  who  by  his  power  in  the  pulpit  and  strong  per- 
sonality was  able  to  build  us  up  as  never  before  in  spiritual- 
ity and  in  material  prosperity.  Declining  years  and  failing 
health  alone  severed  the  relation  which  bound  him  so  strongly 
to  a  loving  people.  Rev.  Frank  W.  Gunsaulus,  now  President 
of  Armour  Institute  and  pastor  of  Central  Church,  a  man 
of  world-wide  reputation  and  one  of  the  most  eloquent 
of  pulpit  orators,  next  became  our  pastor,  and  for  twelve 
years  we  enjoyed  the  rare  privilege  of  his  administration. 
A  call  to  a  wider  field  down  town  seemed  to  beckon  him 
to  larger  opportunities,  and  the  vast  audiences  that  wait 
upon  his  ministry  seemed  to  confirm  us  all  in  the  con- 
viction^that  his  duty  lay  in  that  direction.  For  nearly 
two  years  Rev.  Artemas  Haynes  was  his  successor.  He 
was  a  remarkably  attractive  preacher,  and  won  many 
ardent  friends  to  his  support.  His  delicate  health  com- 
pelled him  to  lay  down  his  work  for  an  indefinite  period 
and  again  our  church  was  without  a  pastor.  Rev.  Joseph 
Anthony  Milburn,  of  Indianapolis,  then  accepted  a  call  to 
our  church  and  has  been  our  able  pastor  since  1900.  We 
have  suffered  severely  during  the  past  few  years  by  reason 
of  the  death  of  many  of  our  prominent  members  and  espe- 
cially from  removal  to  other  suburban  churches.  Business 

86 


is  crowding  at  the  very  threshold  of  our  doors  and  it  seems 
the  part  of  wisdom  not  long  in  the  future  to  locate  in  the 
vicinity  where  most  of  our  people  and  their  children  reside. 
Plymouth  Church  has  had  its  mission,  and  I  think  it  will 
have  its  mission  still. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
MISSION  SUNDAY  SCHOOLS 

UNION  PARK  SUNDAY  SCHOOL 

TT^XPERIENCE  gained  as  a  teacher  in  the  public 
•*— ^  schools  prepared  the  way  for  Sunday  school  work, 
and  when  I  came  to  Chicago  with  the  pleasant  remem- 
brances of  the  school  in  Grand  Rapids  fresh  in  my  mind,  I 
was  strongly  inclined  to  take  up  a  like  work  in  this  City, 
When  we  united  with  the  church  it  had  besides  its  home 
school  three  mission  schools  under  its  supervision,  with 
competent  superintendents  and  well  supplied  with  teachers. 
The  first  request  that  came  to  me  was  that  I  should  assist 
in  the  development  of  an  adult  Bible  class  in  connection 
with  the  home  school.  The  class,  that  numbered  five 
members,  steadily  grew  in  number  and  interest  and  was 
continued  at  the  noon  hour  for  the  six  years  that  I  re- 
mained on  the  West  side,  with  an  average  of  fifty  members. 
It  was  made  up  of  young  married  people,  young  men  and 
young  ladies,  most  of  whom,  later  in  the  day,  went  as 
teachers  to  the  mission  schools.  I  was  later  engaged  in 
superintending  the  school  to  which  I  will  soon  refer.  My 
interest  in  that  adult  Bible  class  was  never  lessened  and 
many  were  the  pleasant  acquaintances  there  formed  which 
proved  to  be  lifelong. 

During  the  years  1857  and   1858  that  whole  western 
portion  of  the  city,  which  until  then  had  been  a  pasture 

88 


ground  known  as  Bull's  Head  and  now  known  as  Union 
Park,  was  being  rapidly  occupied  by  the  newly  made 
dwellings  of  those  who  had  just  come  to  make  Chicago 
their  home.  No  church  had  yet  been  organized  and  the 
time  and  place  for  the  founding  of  another  mission  school 
seemed  most  opportune.  Deacon  Philo  Carpenter,  who  had 
been  termed  the  Father  of  Congregationalism  in  Chicago,  in 
the  early  days  had  located  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres  of 
government  land  at  a  nominal  price  and  still  held  large  hold- 
ings in  this  vicinity.  I  was  invited  by  him  to  visit  the  field, 
and  as  the  result,  at  his  urgent  request,  a  school  was  soon 
organized  and  I  was  requested  to  act  as  superintendent. 
Space  on  the  prairie  had  been  reserved  for  a  park  to  be 
called  Union  Park,  the  only  evidence  of  which  as  yet  was 
on  paper.  Having  faith  in  things  yet  to  be,  we  named  ours 
the  Union  Park  Sunday  School.  There  was  but  one  brick 
building  in  all  the  region,  with  the  exception  of  the 
" Brown"  school  building  just  completed.  A  small  wooden 
schoolhouse,  which  had  had  its  day,  yet  remained  beside 
the  new  building  and  was  on  rollers  to  be  moved  away. 
We  were  permitted  to  use  this  building  for  three  Sabbaths. 
On  the  next  Sabbath,  though  it  had  started  on  its  journey 
it  was  only  one  block  away  and  we  followed  it  for  one 
Sabbath  more.  Then  we  had  a  school  growing  rapidly  in 
numbers  but  without  shelter.  I  shall  ever  hold  in  grateful 
remembrance  the  enterprise  and  ingenuity  which  were 
developed  by  a  band  of  young  men  who  improvised  tem- 
porary resting  places  for  our  accommodation.  Frame 
buildings  in  process  of  erection  were  numerous  and  near 
at  hand.  In  one  of  these,  as  soon  as  the  roof  was  on,  per- 

89 


of 


mission  to  occupy,  was  sought  and  gained.  Rough  floors 
were  improvised,  nail  kegs,  saw  horses  and  planks  did 
service  as  seats.  Such  a  building  could  only  be  occupied 
for  a  brief  time,  for  when  the  plasterers  came  it  was  the 
signal  for  us  to  move  on.  We  occupied  several  houses  in 
like  manner  during  the  summer  and  autumn.  Only  once 
did  we  fail  to  find  temporary  shelter,  and  then  we  met  on 
the  grass  on  the  shady  side  of  the  public  schoolhouse  to 
which  I  have  referred.  Down  our  people  sat  upon  the 
prairie  sod,  and  had  a  session  enjoyable  beyond  expression. 
Before  the  winter's  snows  were  falling,  the  First  Church 
had  erected  for  us  a  commodious  building  with  high  ceiling 
and  pretty  windows,  the  dimensions  being  thirty  by  sixty 
feet.  Many  prominent  families  whose  names  later  became 
inseparable  with  the  early  history  of  Chicago  had  located 
near  by  and  many  of  them  entered  heartily  into  our  work. 

In  1859  the  Chicago  Theological  Seminary  was  organized 
in  connection  with  the  Union  Park  Church.  As  they 
were  to  occupy  this  field,  we  made  to  them  a  formal  transfer 
of  our  mission,  which  numbered  three  hundred  teachers  and 
pupils,  and  from  that  date  to  this  it  has  constituted  the 
home  school  of  the  Union  Park  Church. 

On  the  second  Sunday  of  June  of  this  year  1908,  just 
fifty  years  from  the  day  and  the  hour  when  our  mission  was 
organized,  it  was  my  privilege  as  the  first  superintendent  to 
meet  with  the  people  of  that  splendid  school,  to  be  the 
recipient  of  its  hearty  greetings  and  to  take  by  the  hand 
just  a  few  of  the  old  veterans  who  were  fellow-workers  on 
this  ground  fifty  years  ago.  A  deeply  spiritual  interest 
pervaded  the  school  from  first  to  last.  I  think  our  teachers' 

90 


prayer  meeting  held  immediately  after  the  close  of  the 
school  contributed  largely  to  this  result.  I  may  cite  a 
single  incident  indicative  of  their  influence.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Dean,  lovely  young  people,  had  completed  their  home  near 
our  school.  Mrs.  Dean  soon  became  one  of  our  most 
active  and  efficient  teachers.  She  was  unconsciously 
laboring  for  results  that  were  to  be  the  joy  of  her  heart  for 
years  to  come.  Mr.  Dean  used  to  come  in  and  sit  on  the 
bench  in  the  rear  of  the  room  because  he  wanted  to  come 
with  his  wife  and  he  liked  to  walk.  One  day  I  went  to  him 
and  said:  "Here  is  a  little  class  without  a  teacher.  Can't 
you  teach  it?"  He  said:  "I  have  never  taught."  "Well," 
I  said,  "  Go  and  sit  down  with  the  boys;  they  are  interesting 
little  fellows"  (Luther  Laflin  Mills  was  one  of  them).  He 
went  and  sat  down.  The  boys  were  alert,  and  they  began 
to  ask  him  questions.  They  said  when  the  lesson  was  over, 
"Won't  you  come  and  teach  us  again?"  He  could  hardly 
refuse.  He  came  the  next  Sabbath.  After  our  school, 
when  we  had  our  gathering  as  usual  for  prayer  and  con- 
ference, Mr.  Dean  arose  and  with  trembling  voice  said: 
"My  boys  have  been  asking  some  questions  that  I  could 
not  answer.  Will  you  pray  for  me?"  And  we  had  a 
session  of  prayer.  Do  you  know  that  man  was  for  years 
and  years  an  evangelist  traveling  and  holding  meetings  in 
various  states,  and  the  first  prayer  he  ever  uttered  in  public 
was  in  our  little  after  service? 

NORTH  MISSION  SUNDAY   SCHOOL 

This  school  had  its  inception  in  a  car  house  on  West 
Kinzie  Street  near  Halsted  through  the  courtesy  of  Colonel 

91 


of 


Charles  G.  Hammond,  general  superintendent  of  the  Bur- 
lington road.  Its  superintendent  and  teachers  were  from 
the  First  Congregational  Church.  The  school  occupied 
passenger  cars  for  the  time  stored  in  that  building.  It  soon 
outgrew  its  novel  quarters,  and  in  the  autumn  of  1852,  a 
lot  was  secured  and  a  commodious  building  was  erected 
at  the  corner  of  Curtis  and  Third  Streets.  To  a  portion  of 
the  people  in  that  vicinity  such  a  school  was  unwelcome  and 
on  a  Saturday  night  the  building  was  burned.  It  was  an 
incendiary  fire,  since  no  residence  was  near  it,  and  for  a 
week  no  fire  had  been  lighted  in  the  building.  With  an 
energy  characteristic  of  the  men  and  women  engaged  in 
that  work,  a  new  and  much  more  commodious  one  was  soon 
raised  in  its  place.  The  first  superintendent  was  Mr.  J.  A. 
Kinney,  greatly  beloved  by  all  who  knew  him,  and  his 
early  death  seemed  an  irreparable  loss.  Mr.  T.  T.  Gurney, 
one  of  the  prominent  members  of  the  church,  succeeded  him 
for  two  years,  but  his  business  called  him  so  often  from  the 
city  that  the  school  suffered  from  his  absence.  As  I  had 
just  resigned  my  connection  with  the  Union  Park  School, 
at  Mr.  Gurney's  earnest  request  and  other  members  in 
charge,  I  assumed  the  superintendency  of  the  school  in 
August,  1860.  The  Chicago  Sabbath  School  Union,  then 
an  official  organization,  so  divided  the  mission  field  into 
districts  and  assigned  them  to  Protestant  churches  as  to 
prevent  as  far  as  possible  the  duplication  of  work  on  the 
same  field  by  different  denominations.  By  this  arrange- 
ment, about  forty  squares  were  assigned  to  our  school.  In 
September  of  that  year,  a  thorough  canvass  was  made,  and 
for  each  block,  a  special  little  book  was  prepared  in  which 

92 


£unfcap 


to  enter  the  name  of  every  family  and  the  names  of  the 
children  also.  The  denominational  preference  of  each 
family  was  recorded.  We  had  just  forty  teachers,  and  to 
each  of  these  a  little  book  was  given,  containing  the  history 
of  the  particular  block  assigned  to  each  of  them.  They 
were  to  call  upon  the  families  who  were  friendly  to  our 
work,  and  knowing  every  name,  could  claim  intimate 
acquaintance  with  each  family,  and  this  intimacy  was 
really  wonderful  in  its  results.  As  early  as  the  third  Sun- 
day in  each  month,  each  teacher  was  to  hand  to  Major 
Whittle,  later  superintendent,  a  brief  report  of  the  visits, 
and  on  the  last  Saturday  evening  of  the  month,  the  officers 
and  teachers  were  to  meet  in  one  of  our  private  homes  for 
social  reunion.  A  summary  of  those  reports  presented  by 
Major  Whittle,  in  his  peculiar  way,  became  one  of  the  most 
enjoyable  features  of  our  meetings.  In  our  field  some 
squares  were  densely  occupied  and  these  were  assigned  to 
our  most  willing  workers.  A  few  blocks  yet  remained  un- 
occupied. To  these,  those  who  seemed  too  timid  for  the 
work  were  assigned,  with  the  understanding  that  when  the 
first  building  went  up  on  their  block  their  work  of  visiting 
would  begin.  Although  these  were  troublous  times,  our 
school  grew  rapidly  in  numbers,  and  there  was  the  most 
delightful  harmony. 

During  the  year  1860,  our  country  was  passing  through 
the  most  critical  period  of  its  history  since  the  American 
Revolution.  Mr.  Lincoln  had  been  elected  and  a  threaten- 
ing war  cloud  was  resting  heavily  on  all  the  land.  The 
firing  upon  Fort  Sumter  in  1861  was  another  signal  shot 
heard  around  the  world.  Six  noble  young  men  from  our 

93 


of  <£tgf)t)Li  Hears 


school  answered  the  first  call  made  by  President  Lincoln. 
Each  of  these  made  a  brave  record,  and  to  the  preservation 
of  the  Union  two  of  them  gave  their  lives. 

In  1 86 1  we  changed  our  residence  to  the  South  division 
and  I  was  requested  to  take  charge  of  the  home  school, 
and  for  a  year,  until  the  autumn  of  1862,  had  supervision  of 
the  two  schools,  the  home  school  meeting  at  12  o'clock,  and 
the  mission  at  3  P.  M.  In  October,  1862,  Mr.  Walter  N. 
Mills,  who  during  all  my  connection  with  the  North  mission 
had  been  my  most  efficient  assistant,  and  to  whom  I  was 
greatly  attached,  succeeded  me  in  its  superintendence. 
At  a  surprise  party  given  to  Mrs.  Hollister  and  myself,  then 
boarding  at  the  Stewart  House,  by  the  officers  and  teachers 
of  the  Mission  School,  we  were  presented  with  an  album 
containing  the  photographs  of  the  entire  number.  We 
still  preserve  it  as  one  of  our  most  cherished  treasures. 
The  school  continued  to  prosper  under  the  superintendence 
of  Mr.  Mills  until  it  was  merged  in  the  Tabernacle  School 
of  which  it  was  by  far  the  strongest  constituent. 

CLINTON   STREET  MISSION 

This  mission  has  an  interesting  history.  It  was  situated 
on  the  corner  of  Clinton  and  Wilson  streets,  two  blocks 
west  and  two  south  of  i2th  Street  bridge.  It  was  a  part 
of  a  subdivision  made  by  Drs.  Brainard  and  Evans,  with 
whom  I  had  been  associated  in  Rush  Medical  College,  and 
was  now  owned  by  Dr.  Evans.  He  had  removed  to  Den- 
ver, had  been  elected  Governor  of  Colorado,  and  was  a 
warm  personal  friend.  Dr.  Evans,  for  whom  Evanston 
was  named  and  who  had  been  most  active  in  the  organiza- 

94 


tion  of  the  Northwestern  University,  had  desired  that 
somewhere  on  that  twenty  acres  there  should  be  at  least 
one  Christian  church.  To  this  end,  he  had  rented  this 
corner  to  the  Society  of  Friends  on  a  long  lease  with  the 
anticipation  that  in  due  time  they  would  be  able  to  pur- 
chase it.  They  proceeded  to  erect  a  substantial  frame 
building  about  thirty  by  fifty  feet  in  size.  After  occupying 
their  building  for  a  brief  period,  it  became  evident  to  them 
that  their  best  interests  required  that  their  permanent 
location  should  be  on  the  South  side,  and  they  were  desirous 
of  finding  a  party  who  would  either  buy  or  rent  their 
building  and  assume  the  lease.  Mr.  Adams,  a  member  of 
the  First  Congregational  Church  was  anxious  that  they 
should  take  up  that  work,  but  having  three  missions 
besides  their  home  school  to  provide  for,  they  felt  that 
their  hands  were  full.  Mr.  Adams  then  endeavored  to 
assume  the  work  individually,  but  became  in  arrears  for 
rent  and  with  much  regret  felt  that  the  field  must  be  given 
up.  These  facts  coming  to  our  knowledge  at  Plymouth 
Church,  Mr.  P.  L.  Underwood  and  I  went  over  to  visit 
the  school  on  the  first  Sabbath  in  May,  1867,  and  found 
Mr.  Adams  more  than  anxious  that  we  should  assume  the 
work  which  he  felt  that  he  must  relinquish.  We  conferred 
with  our  church  friends.  We  were  now  located  in  our  new 
building  at  the  corner  of  Wabash  Avenue  and  Eldridge 
Court.  We  could  reach  the  school  by  crossing  i2th  Street 
bridge.  We  could  draw  upon  our  bible  class  for  any 
number  of  teachers.  The  only  remaining  question  was, 
Could  we  finance  the  enterprise?  We  conferred  with  the 
parties  interested,  agreed  to  pay  up  the  back  debt  and 

95 


of 


assume  the  rental  for  one  year,  with  privilege  of  renewal  at 
our  option.  We  assumed  charge  of  the  school  in  June,  1867. 
We  employed  two  omnibuses  each  Sabbath  afternoon  to 
convey  our  teachers  from  the  South  side.  Our  young 
people  were  enthusiastic  in  their  work  and  the  school  grew 
rapidly  upon  our  hands  until,  at  Christmas,  there  was 
hardly  standing  room.  Our  friends  were  liberal  contribu- 
tors and  by  that  time  we  had  our  rent  fully  provided  for. 
From  February  to  June,  .1868,  I  was  in  Europe.  Our 
lease  had  been  extended  another  year.  Upon  my  return 
Mr.  Underwood  said  to  me,  "I  have  just  seen  Mr.  Tuthill 
King,  who  said  '  If  you  will  buy  the  ground  and  keep  it  free 
from  debt,  I  will  give  you  a  thousand  dollars,  but  it  must 
be  kept  free  from  all  incumbrances;  and  I  do  not  deem  it 
wise  to  subscribe  for  current  expenses.'  '  Mr.  Underwood 
said  to  me:  "This  is  too  good  to  be  lost;  we  must  raise  the 
money."  I  at  once  wrote  to  Governor  Evans  as  to  his 
price  for  the  lot.  He  had  just  been  elected  United  States 
Senator  and  was  to  be  in  Chicago  on  his  way  to  Washington 
in  a  few  days.  He  had  held  the  ground  at  three  thousand 
five  hundred  dollars  and  a  party  was  now  considering  it  at 
that  price,  but  said  he:  "If  you  want  it,  I  will  donate  five 
hundred  dollars  and  give  you  a  clear  title  if  you  will  have 
three  thousand  dollars  ready  for  me  when  I  come."  Mr. 
E.  S.  Pike,  a  newly-arrived  citizen,  was  interested  in  our 
work  and  subscribed  two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  After 
another  conference  with  Mr.  Underwood,  I  wrote  to  Deacon 
Carpenter,  who  then  resided  in  Aurora,  and  laid  the  whole 
matter  before  him,  stating  that  if  he  would  give  us  a  thou- 
sand dollars,  we  knew  where  we  could  raise  the  rest.  By 

96 


return  mail  we  received  his  check  for  that  amount,  and  the 
remaining  seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  Mr.  Underwood 
and  I  divided  between  us.  We  then  went  among  our 
friends,  regardless  of  church  relation,  and  obtained  six  one- 
hundred-dollar  and  twelve  fifty-dollar  subscriptions,  with 
which  we  purchased  the  building.  The  property  was  ours 
and  paid  for.  To  make  the  matter  secure,  the  title  was 
vested,  at  our  request,  with  the  trustees  of  Plymouth 
Church.  During  the  next  year,  the  school  had  so  out- 
grown the  building  that  an  annex  with  a  seating  capacity 
for  one  hundred  scholars  was  added.  A  church  was  soon 
organized,  with  the  younger  Mr.  Bascom  as  its  first  pastor. 
Our  Plymouth  Church  continued  to  meet  the  expenses  for 
three  years  longer,  when  those  of  church  and  school  were 
assumed  by  the  people  on  the  field,  and  at  a  later  period  it 
was  turned  over  to  the  City  Mission  Society.  The  in- 
habitants in  that  section  became  so  changed,  and  those  who 
had  located  there  had  so  little  sympathy  with  our  work,  that 
a  different  location  seemed  desirable.  The  property  was 
sold  for  eight  thousand  five  hundred  dollars,  which  was  used 
by  its  people  in  the  building  of  the  present  Ewing  Street 
Church.  When  the  Clinton  Street  Church  and  school 
were  assumed  by  the  home  people  the  Plymouth  workers 
withdrew,  to  engage  in  another  mission  on  the  South  side. 

ARMOUR  MISSION 

At  the  conclusion  of  our  work  at  Clinton  mission,  when  a 
church  had  been  formed  which  was  to  take  charge  of  its 
Sunday  school,  our  band  of  teachers  from  Plymouth 
Church,  who  had  labored  so  faithfully  there,  stood  ready  to 

97 


of  <£igf)tp 


engage  in  a  new  enterprise.  The  home  school  was  then 
under  my  charge,  and  Mr.  William  McGill,  who  had  been 
my  faithful  associate  in  Clinton  Mission,  was  ready  to 
superintend  the  new  enterprise.  We  took  a  morning  drive 
to  find  a  desirable  location,  as  yet  unoccupied,  for  another 
mission  school,  and  after  canvassing  the  field  as  far  as  the 
stock  yards,  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  best  point 
would  be  west  of  State  Street,  somewhere  between  2gth 
and  35th  streets.  The  result  was  that  Mr.  McGill  came 
upon  a  saloon  keeper  who  was  anxious  to  dispose  of  his 
lease  and  would  immediately  vacate.  The  saloon  was 
rented;  it  was  located  on  33rd  Street  just  west  of  State 
Street.  Within  a  week  the  barrels  were  removed,  the  place 
was  renovated,  a  full  supply  of  superfluous  settees  from 
Plymouth  Church  obtained,  and  on  the  following  Sun- 
day afternoon  the  new  work  was  initiated.  It  was  my 
privilege  to  act  as  chairman  at  the  organization.  The 
following  officers  were  elected:  Mr.  William  McGill, 
superintendent;  Mr.  Arthur  Farwell,  assistant  superintend- 
ent; Mr.  Wilmarth,  treasurer,  and  Mr.  James  Nickerson, 
secretary. 

At  that  time  Plymouth  Church  was  not  in  a  position  to 
guarantee  its  support,  and  the  expenses  were  met  by 
private  subscriptions.  For  several  years  it  was  known  as 
the  3ist  Street  Mission.  Mr.  McGill  was  greatly  interested 
in  the  work,  and  prodigal  of  time  and  money  in  its  support. 
He  was  able  to  secure  a  monthly  contribution  of  five 
dollars  each  from  six  young  men  to  meet  its  rent,  one  of 
whom  was  Mr.  Joseph  Armour.  The  current  expenses 
were  paid  by  the  school  and  its  friends,  and  no  debt  was 

98 


allowed  to  be  incurred.  The  school  grew  rapidly  in  num- 
bers, and  the  upper  front  room  of  the  building  was  secured 
for  its  use.  Very  soon  arrangements  were  made  for 
preaching  service  on  Sunday  evening,  and  students  from 
the  seminary  were  engaged  to  conduct  the  service.  The 
fee,  at  first  being  five  dollars  per  evening,  was  soon  increased 
to  ten,  and  was  doubtless  a  material  help  to  those 
thus  engaged.  A  choir  was  organized  which  was  quite 
popular,  and  large  additions  of  young  people  were  made  to 
our  number.  At  the  end  of  two  years  the  school  had  so 
far  outgrown  its  rooms  as  to  necessitate  its  removal,  and 
Apollo  Hall,  at  the  corner  of  State  and  28th  streets,  was 
secured  for  its  use.  The  hall  was  in  the  third  story  of  a 
wooden  building.  It  was  ample  so  far  as  room  was  con- 
cerned, and  all  right  in  the  summer  time,  but  the  dread  of 
fire  in  the  four  living  rooms  below,  hi  the  winter  time,  was 
hard  to  be  endured.  Such  a  risk  ought  not  to  be  taken. 
Every  precaution  possible  was  observed,  but  such  a  danger 
with  our  narrow  flights  of  stairs  was  unwise.  At  the 
conclusion  of  a  most  successful  career  in  this  school,  and 
while  occupying  that  place,  Mr.  McGill  tendered  his 
resignation,  and  Dr.  Doremus  Scudder  succeeded  to  his 
place.  Plymouth  Church  had  now  assumed  its  support, 
and  it  was  then  known  as  Plymouth  Mission.  Dr.  Doremus 
Scudder  had  completed  his  medical  course  and  was  pre- 
paring to  go  as  a  missionary  to  a  foreign  field.  After  a 
few  months  he  resigned  as  superintendent  and  at  the  urgent 
request  of  Reverend  Dr.  Scudder,  then  pastor  of  Plymouth 
Church  and  of  the  Prudential  Committee,  I  became 
superintendent.  I  assumed  that  work  with  the  condition 

99 


of  Cigfttp  Ifcarg 


that  Mr.  McGill  should  be  my  associate,  to  which  he 
assented,  and  our  work  went  on  happily  together.  When 
later  Mr.  McGill  removed  from  the  city,  Mr.  Edwin  Burritt 
Smith  became  his  successor.  Unwilling  to  risk  the  lives 
of  our  children  in  that  upper  hall  another  winter,  we  were 
able  to  rent  the  entire  lower  floor  of  a  large  brick  building 
then  in  process  of  construction  located  at  the  southwest 
corner  of  3ist  and  Butterfield  streets,  now  known  as 
Armour  Avenue.  Here  we  had  ample  room  for  our  school, 
and  the  dread  of  fire  was  unknown.  We  had  now  an 
average  attendance  of  four  hundred  children  and  forty 
teachers,  and  a  Bible  class  numbering  from  thirty  to  forty 
people.  Preaching  services  were  well  attended,  and  our 
monthly  sociables  were  always  looked  forward  to  with 
special  anticipation  by  all  concerned.  Thus  far  I  have 
traced  the  beginnings  of  3ist  Street  Mission  and  its  further 
development  as  Plymouth  Mission.  It  is  next  in  order  to 
note  how  it  became  known  as  Armour  Mission.  During 
the  time  that  Mr.  McGill  was  conducting  the  school,  Mr. 
Joseph  F.  Armour  became  especially  interested  and  con- 
tributed liberally  to  its  support.  He  had  recently  made  a 
public  profession  of  religion  and  had  united  with  Plymouth 
Church.  He  was  rapidly  acquiring  a  very  prominent 
position  as  a  successful  business  man.  He  had  ample 
means  at  his  command,  and  early  conceived  the  idea  of 
securing  a  permanent  home  for  the  mission.  While  Mr. 
McGill  was  yet  superintendent  the  two  men  made  several 
carriage  drives  in  quest  of  a  suitable  location,  but  no 
definite  result  was  reached.  During  the  autumn  of  that 
year  Mr.  Armour  suffered  from  ill  health  and  went  to 

100 


Florida  hoping  to  be  benefited.  He  grew  rapidly  worse, 
and  the  promising  career  of  that  noble  man  was  prematurely 
cut  short.  Mr.  Armour  died  in  Florida.  It  was  found  that 
in  his  will  he  had  set  aside  one  hundred  thousand  dollars 
for  a  building  and  the  endowment  of  his  cherished  mission 
school.  After  his  death  his  brother,  Mr.  Philip  D.  Armour, 
determined  that  the  purpose  of  his  brother  Joseph  should 
be  fulfilled.  He  too  became  greatly  interested  in  the 
enterprise  and  determined  to  build  a  memorial  structure 
which  should  fittingly  express  his  affection  for  his  departed 
brother.  He  acquired  five  acres  of  ground  fronting  the 
corner  of  Armour  Avenue  and  33d  Street  and  constructed  a 
magnificent  building  for  the  school.  He  covered  the 
entire  five  acres  of  ground  with  a  fine  apartment  building, 
the  rent  of  which  should  be  used  for  the  use  of  the  institu- 
tion, and  thus  provided  for  its  permanent  endowment. 
While  living,  he  conveyed  the  title  to  this  property,  costing 
a  million  and  a  half  of  dollars,  to  a  board  of  trustees  having 
power  to  nominate  their  successors.  The  building  went 
rapidly  forward  to  completion,  and  on  a  bright  Sunday 
afternoon  our  school,  now  numbering  about  five  hundred 
pupils,  left  our  old  quarters,  headed  by  our  Young  People's 
Bible  Class,  fifty  in  number,  and  marched  in  procession 
with  banners  flying  to  occupy  the  new  home.  Within  two 
months  our  numbers  increased  from  six  to  twelve  hundred, 
and  by  Christmas  time  we  had  a  membership  of  eighteen 
hundred.  Our  building  was  arranged  to  accommodate 
three  large  departments.  In  each  of  these  the  exercises 
were  conducted  by  assistant  superintendents  and  had  their 
own  exercises.  They  were  named  the  Primary  and  Inter- 


of 


mediate  Departments,  and  the  Main  School.  There  were 
twelve  Bible  class  rooms,  which  opened  by  folding  doors 
into  the  main  audience  room.  These  were  all  occupied 
by  Bible  classes,  which  participated  with  the  main  school 
in  the  opening  and  closing  exercises.  We  had  the  benefit 
of  a  fine  organ,  and  the  singing  was  a  very  impressive 
feature  in  our  service.  Four  times  a  year  we  held  quarterly 
services  in  the  audience  room,  when  all  the  children  were 
massed  in  one  grand  assembly.  They  occupied  every 
available  seat,  crowding  the  spacious  galleries,  the  Bible 
class  rooms,  and  every  inch  of  the  main  floor.  On  our  second 
Christmas  day  our  school  and  its  visitors  numbered  two 
thousand  two  hundred  by  actual  count.  It  was  not  unusual 
to  have  from  two  to  three  hundred  visitors  on  a  single 
Sabbath.  Mr.  Armour  gave  us  fifteen  hundred  dollars 
with  which  to  furnish  a  Sunday  school  library.  The  work 
of  procuring  and  classifying  it  was  committed  to  Edwin 
Burritt  Smith.  Another  important  feature  was  that  of 
the  Teachers'  Prayer  Meeting,  which  was  held  immediately 
after  the  close  of  the  school  in  a  large  side  room.  Though 
we  were  thronged  with  numbers,  many  of  whom  were 
visitors  from  idle  curiosity,  this  gathering  served  as  a  great 
help  in  making  spiritual  influences  dominant  in  all  our 
work.  Our  whole  working  force  was  there  assembled, 
three  associate  superintendents,  the  leaders  of  the  Bible 
classes  and  a  hundred  and  fifty  teachers.  Teachers' 
sociables  were  held  once  a  month,  where  mutual  acquaint- 
ance was  secured,  and  were  in  every  way  very  delightful. 

A  permanent  pastor  was  employed,  and  on   Sabbath 
evening  the  audience  room  was  well  filled.     A  large  choir 

102 


under  an  efficient  leader  was  organized,  consisting  entirely 
of  young  people  connected  with  our  own  work.  A  volun- 
tary church  organization  numbering  some  eighty  members 
was  effected,  and  Sabbath  evening  preaching  became  one 
of  our  prominent  services.  For  twelve  years  I  was  con- 
nected with  this  organization,  and  upon  my  resignation 
Mr.  Edwin  Burritt  Smith,  who  for  years  had  been  my  asso- 
ciate, succeeded  to  the  superintendency.  At  the  time  of 
my  resignation,  in  1888,  I  received  a  rare  collection  of 
books,  eighty  volumes  in  number,  as  a  Christmas  present 
from  those  who  had  been  associated  with  me  in  the  work. 
At  the  conclusion  of  Mr.  Smith's  service,  I  consented  to 
again  resume  the  charge  of  the  school  —  to  "bridge  over" 
as  was  stated — but  it  was  four  years  more  before  the  end 
of  the  bridge  was  reached.  With  this  second  ending  of  my 
work  at  Armour  Mission  my  days  of  Sabbath  school 
superintendence  ended,  although  I  have  been  connected 
with  the  Bible  class  work  to  the  present  date. 


103 


CHAPTER  XVII 
THE   CHICAGO   FIRE 

r  I  CHOUGH  now  a  bit  of  ancient  history,  in  its  time  the 
-••  Chicago  fire  was  a  fearful  fact.  The  very  elements 
seemed  to  conspire  for  the  destruction  of  the  city.  For 
six  weeks  there  had  been  no  ram;  the  place  was  like  a  tinder 
box.  At  the  time  the  fire  was  started,  the  wind  was  blow- 
ing at  the  rate  of  forty-five  miles  an  hour,  and  in  a  direction 
to  sweep  the  town. 

The  fire  originated  from  an  overturned  lamp  in  a  stable 
in  the  southwest  part  of  the  city.  The  result  was  a  mass 
of  ruins  covering  twenty-six  hundred  acres  of  what  had  been 
the  center  of  the  city,  with  nothing  remaining  which  a  heat 
of  twenty-seven  hundred  degrees  could  destroy. 

The  record  of  thatnight,  Oct.  9, 1871,  will  never  be  effaced 
from  the  history  of  Chicago.  The  story  of  its  disaster 
was  told  in  all  lands,  and  those  who  witnessed  the  con- 
flagration were  wont  to  tell  of  their  experiences  for  long 
years  afterward.  In  fact  the  tale  seemed  never  to  grow  old. 

During  the  early  part  of  that  year  we  had  resided  in  a 
summer  home  at  Riverside,  while  nearly  all  of  our  effects 
were  still  in  Chicago.  While  sitting  at  our  breakfast  table 
on  the  morning  of  October  loth,  our  next  door  neighbor, 
Mr.  David  Blakely,  proprietor  of  the  Chicago  Post,  came 
in  upon  us  so  excited  and  so  ghastly  pale  that  we  thought 
surely  he  had  gone  mad.  "What!"  he  exclaimed.  "You 


104 


Chicago  fire 


here,  and  don't  know  that  Chicago  is  all  burned  up! 
Your  office  is  gone,  my  presses  are  gone!  There  is  not  a 
printing  press  left,  not  a  hotel,  not  a  church — the  city  gone, 
and  you  don't  know  iti"  Then  I  thought  surely  poor 
Blakely  had  gone  insane.  He  continued:  "I  have  worked 
all  night  in  the  desperate  effort  to  save  my  sister  and  her 
children,  and  thank  God  we  got  them  here."  In  all  earnest- 
ness I  exclaimed,  " Where?"  "There!"  he  cried,  pointing  to 
his  house.  It  was  but  a  step  across  the  lawn.  In  a  mo- 
ment I  was  there.  I  was  sure  the  man  was  mad.  I  met 
that  sister  at  the  threshold  of  the  door.  With  arms  up- 
lifted far  above  her  head  and  tears  streaming  down  her 
cheeks,  with  breath  too  choked  for  utterance,  she  could 
only  say  with  broken  sobs  —  "Oh  doctor,  isn't  it  awful?" 
The  appalling  fact  was  upon  us  that  the  half  had  not  been 
told.  The  western  train  going  to  Chicago  was  just  at 
hand  and  I  was  soon  as  near  the  confines  of  the  fire  as  safety 
would  permit.  Already  the  entire  center  of  the  city  was 
burned,  the  flames  were  eating  out  the  margins  and  still 
spreading  desolation  far  away  on  the  North  side.  From 
Madison  Street  north  the  West  side  had  been  spared,  and 
skirting  the  burned  portion,  I  followed  up  Halsted  to  Lake 
and  came  on  Lake  to  the  river,  which  parted  me  from  the 
fiery  furnace.  The  corner  of  Lake  and  Canal  streets  was 
occupied  by  a  lumber  yard,  where  upon  its  highest  pile  I 
climbed  and  had  a  near  view  of  the  whole  scene.  It  was 
then  9  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  sun  was  slowly  rising 
from  over  the  lake  and  its  face  was  as  red  as  blood.  I 
think  I  must  have  stood  there  transfixed  for  a  full  hour. 


105 


jttemorieg  of  <6i$)tp 


How  many  had  perished  in  the  flames  I  could  not  know. 
How  the  poor  patients  in  the  hospitals  with  which  I  was 
connected  had  fared  I  could  not  tell.  Whither  had  these 
thousands  of  people,  so  many  of  them  our  friends,  fled,  or 
how  many  of  them  had  fallen  by  the  way  —  to  these  ques- 
tions there  were  no  answers,  and  fear  outweighed  all  hope. 
As  a  physical  phenomenon,  that  scene  was  passing  wonder- 
ful. For  two  square  miles  before  me,  the  whole  field  was 
heated  until  iron  melted  like  wax  and  stood  in  pools  in  the 
cellars  where  large  hardware  stores  had  been.  The  very 
air  over  that  region  was  visible  and  its  waves  rose  and  fell 
as  distinctly  as  though  they  had  been  water.  How  long 
unbidden  tears  had  been  flowing  down  my  face  I  do  not 
know,  but  I  found  myself  murmuring  a  piteous  wail, 
"Poor  Chicago!  Poor  Chicago!"  During  the  day  the 
fire  continued  to  rage,  completing  the  destruction  on  the 
lake  shore,  and  sweeping  far  and  wide  upon  the  North 
side  until  every  house  save  one  had  been  consumed.  The 
following  night,  it  is  said,  one  hundred  thousand  people 
were  resting  unsheltered  upon  the  open  prairie  on  the  West 
side.  During  that  night  the  rain  had  come,  at  last  the 
drought  so  long  continued  was  broken,  and  the  heated 
earth,  too  warm  for  comfort,  was  cool  again. 

The  news  of  the  disaster  flashed  to  every  land,  and  dona- 
tions never  before  paralleled  were  soon  counted  by  millions. 
Train  loads  of  provisions  blocked  every  avenue;  every 
church  in  the  suburbs  was  an  eating  house,  and  the  doors 
of  every  private  residence  far  and  near  stood  wide  open. 
From  every  land,  and  from  the  islands  of  the  sea,  came  con- 


106 


Chicago  fire 


tributions  almost  beyond  measure,  until  it  seemed  as  though 
the  treasures  of  the  world  were  wide  open.  Even  for  two 
years  after  the  fire,  some  of  the  delayed  ones  were  seeking 
their  destination.  The  personal  losses  were  enormous; 
treasures  and  heirlooms  beyond  number  and  beyond  price 
were  swept  away.  The  records  of  the  city  of  every  sort 
had  perished,  and  titles  to  property  were  gone. 

The  whole  area  of  the  burned  district  had  to  be  re-sur- 
veyed to  determine  metes  and  bounds.  It  has  always  seemed 
a  marvel  to  me — the  manner  in  which  our  hospitals  were 
emptied  and  the  lame,  the  halt  and  the  blind  so  rescued  from 
the  flames  that  only  two  hundred  persons  should  have 
perished. 

To  show  how  utterly  Chicago  seemed  to  be  destroyed, 
I  give  a  single  fact  which  implicated  myself.  Two  days 
after  the  fire  a  message  reached  me  from  the  proprietor  of 
a  newspaper  in  Michigan,  with  a  request  that  I  should 
prepare  an  article  in  answer  to  the  question:  "Will  Chi- 
cago be  rebuilt?"  And  I  confess  I  took  the  matter  so 
seriously  that  I  sat  down  and  penned  a  reply  a  column  in 
length,  giving  my  reasons  in  all  sober  earnestness  why  it 
would  and  must  be  restored.  I  smile  as  I  remember  that 
in  less  than  a  year  the  tall  derricks  in  all  the  central  streets 
looked  like  the  masts  of  vessels  in  a  crowded  shipyard. 

The  history  of  its  rebuilding  needs  no  recital.  The 
answer  is  that  in  two  decades  the  World 's  Fair  brought  to 
it  the  finest  fabrics  and  choicest  works  of  art  which  the 
world  could  produce,  and  its  beautiful  "  White  City"  gave 
evidence  never  to  be  questioned  that  Chicago  was  rebuilt. 


107 


of  <£igi)tp 


I  saw  Chicago  in  1846,  when  it  had  fifteen  thousand  in- 
habitants. I  was  a  citizen  when  it  numbered  sixty  thou- 
sand people.  Since  then  it  has  increased  to  over  two  mil- 
lion inhabitants,  and  were  I  to  forecast  the  future,  I  would 
confidently  predict  that  it  will  be  the  dominant  city  of  the 
continent,  and  that  not  long  in  the  future. 


108 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
VISIT  TO   EUROPE 

ON  February  22,  1868,  I  left  New  York  on  a  voyage 
to  Europe.  Rev.  L.  E.  Matson  and  his  wife  were 
my  traveling  companions.  He  was  going  to  Italy  in 
quest  of  health  and  was  specially  committed  to  my  care. 
Mrs.  Hollister  was  not  strong  and  our  little  daughter 
Belle  had  need  of  her  constant  care.  So,  much  to  my 
regret,  I  was  to  make  the  journey  without  them. 

We  sailed  on  the  French  steamer  St.  Lawrence,  and  after 
nine  days  landed  at  Brest  and  went  by  rail  to  Paris. 
We  left  New  York  when  the  thermometer  registered 
twenty  degrees  below  zero.  The  second  day  out  we 
encountered  a  terrific  northeaster,  and  if  others  have 
suffered  more  from  seasickness  than  we  did,  our  profound 
sympathy  is  at  their  command. 

Three  weeks  were  given  to  my  first  visit  to  Paris. 
Napoleon  Third  was  then  emperor,  and  though  Paris 
was,  as  always,  everywhere  gay,  I  somehow  felt  that 
a  kind  of  surveillance  and  espionage  was  everywhere 
present.  Beneath  the  buoyancy  and  cheer,  so 
characteristic  of  that  city,  there  seemed  to  be  an  un- 
derlying spirit  of  unrest.  I  think  Napoleon  at  that 
time  was  seeking  a  war  with  Germany  that  he  might 
avert  a  war  at  home.  I  little  dreamed  that  within  two 
short  years  the  German  flag  would  wave  over  Palais 
Royal,  that  terms  of  peace  would  be  dictated  at  Ver- 

109 


of 


sailles,  that  Alsace  and  Lorraine  would  be  surrendered,  and 
that  an  enormous  indemnity  was  to  be  paid  by  France  to 
Germany.  Neither  the  world  outside  nor  France  itself 
would  have  known  how  rich  she  was  until  that  enormous 
indemnity  had  been  met  and  paid  by  her  own  people. 
Statistics  show  that,  notwithstanding  this  immense  strain 
upon  her  resources,  per  capita,  France  is  still  the  richest 
nation  in  the  world.  France  was  humiliated,  but  she 
bides  her  time.  The  wound  may  seem  healed,  but  the 
scar  remains,  and  gives  no  evidence  that  the  result  will 
prove  permanent. 

I  had  long  desired  to  visit  Paris  and  my  anticipa- 
tions were  realized,  for  it  is  a  beautiful  city.  My 
visit  to  Versailles  was  a  charming  one,  and  the  Louvre 
had  its  endless  attractions  but  my  interest  mainly 
centered  in  its  medical  institutions.  In  former  years 
many  of  our  foremost  men  had  been  in  the  habit  of  taking 
a  course  in  Paris  for  the  more  perfect  rounding  out  of 
their  medical  studies.  By  the  hearing  of  the  ear  I  had 
learned  much,  but  I  had  longed  to  see  for  myself.  Monod, 
who  since  became  one  of  the  foremost  surgeons  in  Paris, 
was  just  then  beginning  to  win  his  spurs.  His  brother 
had  been  my  patient  in  Chicago,  and  from  this  brother 
I  bore  a  letter  of  introduction  to  him.  That  was  all  I 
needed.  I  was  made  a  welcome  guest,  not  only  in  the 
wards  of  the  hospitals,  but  in  private  families  as 
well,  for  not  only  was  Monod  a  favorite  with  the  pro- 
fession, but  one  of  his  uncles  was  a  member  of  the  Legion 
of  Honor.  I  divert  to  say  that  while  I  was  a  guest  at  the 
table  of  this  uncle,  I  referred  to  the  popularity  with  which 

no 


to 


their  medical  schools  and  hospitals  were  regarded  in 
America.  "Yes,"  said  he,  "that  may  be  true,  and  we 
are  glad  to  believe  it,  but  you  have  one  thing  which  we 
have  not,"  and  then  after  a  pause  he  said,  "that  is  liberty." 
The  whole  Monod  families  were  stanch  Huguenots,  and 
his  words  meant  more  than  I  then  knew.  In  a  little  more 
than  two  years  France  was  to  be  a  republic. 

But  to  return:  Surgeon  Monod  gave  me  his  card  with 
a  commendation  written  upon  its  back,  and  that  card  gave 
me  an  open  door  and  a  place  of  honor  wherever  it  was 
presented.  I  spent  most  of  my  time  for  two  weeks  walking 
in  the  wards  and  listening  to  lectures  from  a  large  number 
of  leading  physicians  and  surgeons.  They  were  days  of 
profit,  and  much  that  I  saw  and  learned  was  to  be  utilized 
in  Chicago.  I  had  a  special  invitation  to  a  meeting  of  the 
Academy  of  Medicine,  where  I  saw  and  heard  many  cele- 
brated men  whose  writings  had  been  my  text  books.  What 
a  reward  came  to  me  from  the  treating  of  a  little  wandering 
Frenchman  in  Chicago. 

Leaving  Paris  we  started  on  our  way  to  Southern  Italy. 
We  spent  a  day  at  Dijon,  another  at  Lyons,  and  two  days 
at  Marseilles.  We  then  boarded  a  little  ship  with  no 
accommodations  for  passengers,  but  of  almost  incredible 
speed.  We  learned  that  it  was  built  as  a  blockade-runner 
during  our  Civil  war  and  later  had  been  sold  into  the 
Mediterranean  service.  Skirting  the  northern  coast  of 
that  beautifully  blue  inland  sea,  we  were  soon  at  Genoa, 
the  proud  commercial  rival  of  Venice  in  the  fifteenth 
century.  Of  course  Columbus  was  my  uppermost  thought 
as  we  neared  the  quaint  little  city,  and  a  monument  to 


of  <£igf)tp  Ifearg 


him  gave  evidence  that  his  memory  is  honored  at  home. 
It  did  not  then  dawn  upon  my  imagination  that  twenty- 
five  years  later  the  "White  City"  in  Chicago  would 
be  built  in  honor  of  his  discoveries. 

After  two  days  in  Genoa,  a  night's  ride  in  a  little  sailing 
vessel  brought  me  to  Leghorn,  once  so  renowned  as  a  seaport 
town.  An  inland  ride  of  eighteen  miles  and  we  came  to  Pisa. 
From  childhood,  as  often  as  I  had  seen  its  leaning  tower 
pictured  in  my  school  books  I  had  cherished  the  hope  that 
some  day  I  might  see  it.  Of  course  it  seemed  then  but  an  idle 
dream,  but  now  it  was  to  be  realized.  Not  the  beautiful 
scenery  and  the  snow-capped  Apennines  in  the  distance 
could  command  my  interest  until  I  had  climbed  the 
Tower  of  Pisa.  From  its  top  a  magnificent  view  of  the 
Mediterranean  is  to  be  had,  and  the  approach  of  vessels 
could  be  discerned  thus  far  away.  As  I  descended  from 
the  tower  step  by  step  I  found  myself  saying,  "I've  done 
it;  I've  done  it."  And  yet  that  childish  thought  of  mine, 
now  fulfilled,  was  of  small  matter.  How  I  did  crave  to 
have  someone  speak  to  me  from  out  the  past  and  tell 
of  the  peoples  of  the  long-gone  centuries,  of  deeds  which 
they  had  done,  and  by  whom  this  leaning  watch  tower  had 
been  built,  giving  timely  warning  of  buccaneers  from  the 
far-off  Lythian  shores.  Like  footprints  on  the  sands  of 
tune,  the  record  is  mingled  with  myths,  and  only  a  frag- 
ment here  and  there  remains  to  tell  of  the  things  that  were. 

From  Pisa  I  went  to  Florence.  I  had  left  my  friends, 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Matson,  at  Genoa,  and  from  thence  was  to 
make  my  journey  alone.  Florence  is  a  beautiful  city 
situated  on  either  side  of  the  Arno,  which  is  spanned  by 


it  to  Europe 


from  six  to  ten  bridges,  some  of  modern  construction  and 
others  of  very  ancient  architecture.  The  history  of  Flor- 
ence, so  named  perhaps  from  the  profusion  of  flowers  upon 
its  native  hills,  has  been  written  and  rewritten  by  those 
who  have  known  it  best,  and  I  need  not  here  register  the 
limit  of  my  knowledge.  I  will  write  only  of  what  I  saw. 
First  the  beautiful  little  river  Arno,  which  has  cut  its  way 
through  the  Apennines  and  is  in  haste  to  get  to  the  sea. 
Second,  the  hillsides  which  skirt  the  river  on  either  side, 
surrounded  by  imposing  cathedrals,  immense  private 
dwellings  and  beautiful  villas,  which  tell  of  the  grandeur  of 
Florence  in  its  palmy  days.  As  regards  galleries  of  art,  it 
must  easily  rank  with  the  foremost  cities  of  the  world, 
and  for  three  days  I  spent  my  time  mainly  hi  viewing 
these  art  treasures,  the  works  of  the  old  masters.  The 
collection  of  paintings  in  Pitti  Palace  is  said  to  be  the 
finest  in  the  world,  and  tourists  by  hundreds,  from  all 
parts  of  the  world,  make  this  one  of  their  objective  points. 
The  Uffizi  gallery  contains  several  masterpieces  of  Ra- 
phael's and  Titian's.  One  room,  called  the  Tribune,  con- 
tains the  most  celebrated  statues  of  antiquity.  Florence 
is  also  celebrated  for  its  libraries.  I  think  the  National 
library,  which  contains  two  hundred  and  eighty  thou- 
sand volumes,  will  be  found  eventually  to  be  one  of  the 
richest  mines  in  the  world  to  be  worked  by  historians  in 
later  ages.  The  stores  in  the  Vatican  will  hardly  exceed 
it  in  matters  of  ancient  history.  Historians  tell  us  of 
Florence  as  a  republic,  of  her  conquest  by  the  French,  of 
her  importance  when  she  was  the  capitol  of  Italy  under 
Victor  Emmanuel,  until  as  the  capital  she  gave  place  to 

"3 


of 


Rome  in  1870.  Here  was  the  home  and  the  life  work  of  that 
wonderful  man  Savonarola.  Here  too,  in  his  day,  Michael 
Angelo  founded  his  famous  "School  of  Art,"  whose  works 
are  today  numbered  among  the  choicest  treasures  for  which 
Florence  is  renowned.  It  is,  as  I  said,  idle  to  write  of 
Florence.  One  must  see  it;  he  must  study  it  before 
he  goes — study  it  there  and  study  it  afterwards. 

From  Florence  I  passed  through  Rome  direct  to  Naples, 
planning  to  spend  Easter  at  Rome  on  my  return.  It  was 
night  when  we  reached  Naples,  and  as  we  approached  the 
city  I  had  my  first  sight  of  the  red  glare  of  Vesuvius,  then 
in  violent  eruption.  In  the  morning,  from  my  open  window 
I  beheld  the  beautiful  Bay  of  Naples  immediately  before 
me,  and  there  at  anchor  lay  our  grand  American  Squadron 
with  Admiral  Farragut  in  command.  This  was  in  March, 
1868.  Not  since  I  left  home  had  I  seen  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  unfurled,  and  if  a  tear  did  drop  from  my  eye  that 
was  a  matter  of  my  own.  Naples,  Pompeii,  Herculaneum, 
made  immortal  by  the  younger  Pliny,  were  of  absorbing 
interest,  but  none  of  these  could  command  me  as  did  that 
day  spent  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Vesuvius.  The  very  earth 
trembled  as  the  belching  flames  rose  high  in  air,  and  the 
melted  rocks  seemed  like  meteors  in  the  sky.  A  stream  of 
lava  was  running  down  the  mountain,  a  cooling,  crushed 
mass  which  was  slowly  pushing  itself  upon  the  plain 
before  us,  while  here  and  there  a  crack  in  the  crust 
would  permit  the  liquid  fire  to  appear.  We  lingered  upon 
the  mountain  side  until  nearly  midnight,  making  heavy 
requisitions  upon  our  well-supplied  larder;  and  this  I  will 
confess — that  after  the  manner  of  our  crowd  I  did  drink  a 

114 


to 


bottle  of  Lachryma  Christi.  As  a  physician,  it  was  purely 
a  professional  act,  for  I  must  know  its  quality  if  I  were 
to  advise  its  use.  At  midnight  we  were  half-way  down 
the  mountain,  and  tarried  for  a  time  at  the  Hermitage, 
where  kings  in  seclusion  had  hidden  away  in  times  gone 
by.  The  moon  was  at  the  full;  almost  beneath  our  feet 
was  a  city  in  its  slumber.  The  rippling  waters  of  the  bay 
gave  back  to  us  the  silvery  light  of  the  reflected  moon,  and 
in  the  dim  distance  rose  the  beautiful  island  of  Capri. 
There  was  but  one  such  balmy  night  —  one  such  Italian 
moon,  one  such  city  and  one  such  bay.  A  day  and  a 
night  such  as  these  were  worth  living  for. 

After  two  weeks  I  returned  to  Rome.  It  was  Easter 
week  and  pilgrims  from  the  ends  of  the  earth  were  there. 
Pius  IX  was  then  the  spiritual  potentate  of  the  Catholic 
world,  and  his  appearance  in  St.  Peter's  on  Easter  day 
was  the  crowning  event  of  the  week.  Of  course  I  visited 
the  catacombs,  walked  out  on  the  Appian  Way  by  which 
Paul  had  entered  Rome,  and  paid  a  visit  to  the  tomb  of 
Matelli;  saw  the  illumination  of  St.  Peter's  at  night,  and 
attended  a  Protestant  service  outside  the  city  wall  on 
Sunday,  for  at  that  time  no  such  service  was  permitted 
within  its  limits.  What  a  change  has  come  over  Italy 
since  that  day ! 

I  visited  the  Coliseum  at  midnight  under  a  full  moon. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  in  the  shadow  of  those  walls  I  ought 
to  discern  the  gladiators  and  the  martyrs,  hear  the  cries 
of  the  infuriated  mob  and  the  howling  of  wild  beasts, 
while  the  gentle  moonlight  was  faintly  representing  the 
glare  of  burning  Rome  with  Nero  looking  on. 

"5 


of  <£ifff)tp  % earg 


After  a  week  in  Rome  and  another  day  in  Florence  I 
crossed  the  Apennines.  It  was  night,  and  I  was  locked  in 
an  apartment  with  a  rough  looking  fellow  who  just  ful- 
filled my  idea  of  a  brigand.  If  he  chose,  it  might  be  but 
a  moment's  work  to  pitch  me  from  the  open  window  down 
the  mountain  side  and  appropriate  my  effects.  So  I  pre- 
sumed to  sleep  wrapped  in  my  immense  plaid  shawl,  but 
all  the  while  keeping  one  eye  out,  when  what  should  I 
discern  but  that  he  was  doing  the  same  thing.  With  the 
light  of  morning  dawning  we  had  a  conversation,  but 
neither  knew  the  other's  language.  Soon  we  were  in 
the  beautiful  city  of  Venice,  and  my  first  ride  in  a  gondola 
took  me  to  the  Hotel  1' Anglais.  Of  course  I  had  a  day 
on  the  Grand  Canal,  passed  under  the  Bridge  of  Sighs,  saw 
the  old  Venetian  paintings  in  the  Doge's  Palace,  visited 
the  Cathedral  of  San  Marco  and  the  Basilica,  since  fallen; 
but  all  the  way  my  uppermost  thought  and  wish  were  that 
Jenny  might  be  there  to  enjoy  it  all  with  me.  Another 
day  and  I  was  on  my  way  from  Venice  to  Vienna.  Our 
route  lay  along  the  valley  of  the  Sommering.  We  were 
skirting  the  crested  spurs  of  the  Eastern  Alps,  and  in  the 
course  of  the  day  passed  through  fifty-two  tunnels,  so  the 
guide  books  say.  While  the  snow  blockaded  the  paths  at 
our  stations  high  on  the  mountain  side,  we  could  discern  the 
peach-trees  in  bloom  in  the  valley  far  beneath.  I  was  in  a 
compartment  with  a  German  teacher  and  two  young  ladies. 
He  was  teaching  them  English,  and  such  English  I  have  not 
the  power  to  describe.  I  did  not  let  on  until  near  the  end 
of  our  trip,  when  I  spoke  to  him  in  English.  To  this  day 
I  have  enjoyed  the  confusion  which  my  question  produced. 

116 


to 


At  Vienna  I  was  at  once  in  the  midst  of  medical  sur- 
roundings and  busy.  I  was  not  an  adept  in  the  German 
language,  but  by  the  aid  of  some  of  my  former  pupils 
who  were  attending  lectures  there  I  managed  to  get 
along  quite  satisfactorily.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing 
the  celebrated  pathologist  Rokitansky  as  he  gave  his 
last  course  of  lectures,  and  Hebra,  too,  who  at  that  time  was 
a  world-wide  authority  on  skin  diseases.  Bilroth,  also  yet 
young  in  his  profession,  had  come  to  Vienna,  where  his 
laurels  were  yet  to  be  won.  In  company  with  our  American 
students  I  visited  the  wards  day  by  day,  studying  their 
methods  of  medical  and  surgical  teaching  and  treatment. 

From  Vienna  I  returned  to  Paris  for  a  few  days,  and  then 
crossed  over  to  London.  I  was  introduced  to  the  private 
library  of  Professor  Beal,  saw  the  original  drawings  from 
which  the  illustrations  in  his  books  were  made,  and  there 
studied  his  rare  microscopical  specimens  for  two  weeks, 
in  connection  with  a  walk  each  day  in  some  one  of  the  great 
hospitals.  I  was  most  interested  at  Guy's  Hospital,  King's 
College  Hospital,  and  St.  Bartholomew's.  Through  the 
courtesy  of  Professor  Beal  I  had  the  pleasure  of  attending 
an  interesting  session  of  the  Royal  Pathological  Society, 
where  I  saw  a  number  of  London's  most  eminent  men  and 
listened  to  their  discussion.  They  have  a  curious  custom 
there  which,  while  it  seemed  rude,  might  be  sometimes 
used  to  advantage  in  America.  If  the  man  who  had 
the  floor  had  not  something  original  or  well  worth  the 
hearing  to  say,  those  old  veterans  would  commence  rub- 
bing their  feet  on  the  floor  until  the  din  would  compel 
the  speaker  to  sit  down.  London  is  by  all  odds  too  big. 

117 


of 


It  is  impossible  for  any  man,  though  he  be  a  resident 
there,  to  take  it  in.  I  did  my  best  at  the  rate  of  sixteen 
hours  a  day  for  two  weeks,  but  aside  from  medical  col- 
leges and  hospitals  I  only  brought  away  a  few  relics. 

I  had  the  exquisite  pleasure  of  an  evening  in  the  House 
of  Commons  when  Gladstone  and  Disraeli  were  there. 
Of  course  I  visited  Westminster  Abbey  and  looked  at  the 
monuments  and  tablets  dedicated  to  the  memory  of 
departed  heroes.  I  spent  an  evening  at  Exeter  Hall  and 
heard  the  oratorio  of  Elijah  rendered  by  five  hundred 
picked  singers  of  the  kingdom.  On  Sunday  I  was  one 
of  the  immense  crowd  and  heard  a  sermon  by  Spurgeon 
in  his  famous  tabernacle.  I  also  spent  a  whole  day  at 
the  Tower,  and  as  I  gave  a  good-sized  tip  to  my  custodian 
he  just  laid  himself  out  in  his  recital  of  its  marvelous  his- 
tories, some  of  which  I  knew  from  previous  readings  to  be 
true.  His  toggery  would  have  secured  for  him  a  first-class 
position  in  a  dime  museum  in  America.  The  crowns  of 
departed  kings  were  there,  the  armor  of  old  time 
warriors,  the  court  where  so  often  the  bloody  ax  had 
fallen,  and  the  deserted  cells  whose  histories,  if  they  could 
be  retold,  would  cause  the  blood  to  curdle  in  the  bravest 
heart.  Let  the  dead  past  sleep  without  a  resurrection 
and  the  Tower  remain  as  it  is  today,  one  of  London's 
chiefest  side  shows  for  the  entertainment  of  tourists. 

But  now  the  day  for  the  sailing  of  my  steamer  was  at 
hand.  A  rapid  ride  took  me  to  Liverpool  and  a  seven 
days'  voyage  on  the  Russia  brought  me  to  New  York, 
whither  my  wife  had  come  to  meet  me.  The  homeland 
was  never  so  dear,  and  the  reunion  was  best  of  all. 

118 


JOHN  HAMILCAR  HOLLISTER 


JANUARY 


JENETTE  WINDIATT  HOLLISTER 


849-1899 


FOR  several  years  I  had  been  a  member  of  the  "Romeo 
Band."  It  numbered  fifteen  members,  and  several 
of  them  were  talented  musicians.  It  had  quite  a  reputa- 
tion throughout  Michigan  and,  notably  in  the  political 
campaign  of  1844,  was  continuously  in  demand  at  mass 
meetings  as  they  were  held  throughout  the  state.  Two  of 
our  members  were  nephews  of  Mr.  Oliver  Newberry  of 
Detroit,  who  was  among  the  first  to  inaugurate  upper 
cabin  steamers  on  the  Lakes.  These  boats  made  weekly 
trips  between  Buffalo  and  Chicago  and  were  immensely 
popular,  there  being  as  yet  no  railroad  communication 
with  the  West.  Mr.  Newberry  was  the  granduncle,  and 
one  of  our  boys  became  the  father,  of  our  present  Secretary 
of  the  Navy. 

Mr.  Newberry  invited  our  band  to  take  a  pleasure  trip 
from  Detroit  to  Chicago  on  his  favorite  steamer,  "The 
Illinois."  It  was  a  gratuity  not  without  its  compensations, 
for  it  was  an  event  on  these  upper  lakes  when  a  vessel 
steamed  into  the  various  ports  with  a  full  band  of  music  on 
board.  We  had  a  jolly  time  in  passing  the  St.  Clair  Flats 
and  the  old  historic  Fort  Gratiot.  All  went  merry  as  a 
marriage  bell  until  we  entered  Lake  Huron,  where  off  Sagi- 
naw  Bay  we  encountered  a  heavy  rolling  sea.  Mai  de  mer 
soon  took  possession  of  us;  the  smiles  on  our  faces  soon  wore 
off,  and  most  of  us  were  at  the  rail  pretending  to  count 


stars  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  But  we  outrode  the  storm 
and  were  pretty  well  recovered  when  we  came  in  full  view 
of  Mackinac.  It  was  a  summer  evening  with  full  moon  at 
midnight.  The  dark  green  foliage  which  skirted  the  hill- 
tops was  in  strong  contrast  with  the  whitewashed  buildings 
and  picket  walls  which  outlined  the  fort.  It  seemed  to  me, 
as  we  steamed  up  to  the  shore  and  the  notes  of  our  music 
came  echoing  back  from  the  bluffs,  the  newest  approach 
possible  to  an  earthly  paradise.  When,  on  our  return  at 
midday  three  days  later,  I  beheld  the  squalid  huts  of  fisher- 
men and  the  untidy  Indian  tepees  skirting  the  shore,  my 
first  fond  illusion  was  dispelled  and  this  ideal  of  my  dreams 
was  entirely  outside  of  heaven.  We  went,  as  was  the  cus- 
tom hi  those  days,  from  Mackinac  to  Manitou  Island  to 
take  on  wood.  It  was  a  sight  to  behold  the  enormous 
quantity  taken  on  board  at  a  single  landing.  It  gave  us 
some  little  idea  of  the  cost  of  running  a  steamer  in  those 
early  days. 

We  lay  in  the  Chicago  Creek  for  a  part  of  three  days. 
The  city  had  been  incorporated  only  nine  years.  It  num- 
bered about  fifteen  thousand  inhabitants.  There  were  no 
paved  streets,  save  a  few  planks  laid  in  Lake  Street.  There 
were  but  three  or  four  brick  buildings  on  Lake  Street,  and 
property  owners  on  that  street  were  striving  to  induce  busi- 
ness men  to  come  over  there  from  South  Water  Street,  which 
fronted  on  the  river  and  its  docks.  But  Lake  Street  was 
yet  too  far  away  —  too  far  south.  I  gained  permission  to 
run  up  to  the  crosstree  of  a  schooner  that  lay  alongside  of 
our  boat,  and  from  this  masthead  had  a  fine  panoramic 
view  of  the  whole  country.  It  was  heavily  wooded  on  the 

122 


IHgit  to  Chicago 


south  side  below  Twelfth  Street,  and  on  the  north  side  beyond 
Chicago  Avenue.  Only  a  little  stretch  of  prairie  was  to  be 
seen  on  the  west  in  the  direction  of  Riverside. 

On  the  first  night  the  officers  provided  us  with  a  carryall, 
and  with  a  four-horse  team  we  went  serenading  the  town. 
In  the  matter  of  music  our  only  competition  arose  from  the 
opening  of  windows,  the  rattling  of  blinds,  and  the  clapping 
of  hands.  As  a  special  compliment  to  some  aristocratic 
families  we  were  driven  to  their  residences,  "away  out  on 
Madison  Street."  This  was  then  the  far  south  of  the  city. 
The  next  evening  a  reception  was  given  on  board  the  steam- 
er, and  the  long  cabin  was  filled  to  overflowing  by  citizens 
of  Chicago,  and  music  and  dancing  held  the  gayly  attired 
visitors  until  the  small  hours  of  the  morning.  On  the  third 
day  we  steamed  down  the  creek,  giving  to  the  city  a  parting 
serenade,  and  that  ended  my  first  visit  to  Chicago. 


123 


CHAPTER  XX 
EXCURSION  TO  THE   MISSISSIPPI  RIVER 

IN  1855  the   Burlington  Railroad  had  been  completed 
from  Chicago  to  the  Mississippi.     The  great  event  of 
the  year  was  to  be  duly  celebrated,  and  Colonel  Charles  G. 
Hammond,  the  general  superintendent  of  the  road,  had 
planned  an  excursion  worthy  of  the  occasion. 

A  train  of  fifteen  cars  was  put  in  service  to  accommodate 
the  invited  guests,  numbering  many  noted  men  and  charm- 
ing women.  Among  the  men  most  prominent  were  Hon. 
Lewis  Cass  of  Detroit,  the  old-time  Governor  of 
Michigan  Territory,  pre-eminently  the  great  pioneer  of  the 
Northwest,  and  later  successively  United  States  Senator, 
Secretary  of  State,  and  in  1848  the  Democratic  candidate 
for  the  Presidency;  the  Hon.  Stephen  A.  Douglas  then 
Senator  from  Illinois  and  breasting  the  opposition  of  the 
North  for  his  successful  effort  to  repeal  the  Missouri  Com- 
promise; Hon.  Zachary  Chandler,  formerly  Governor  of 
Michigan,  later  to  be  known  as  the  stalwart  leader  of  the 
Republican  party,  the  war  horse  in  the  Civil  War  and  the 
days  of  reconstruction ;  Hon.  Thomas  W.  Ferry,  later  United 
States  Senator  from  Michigan;  Levi  D.  Boone,  Mayor  of 
Chicago,  and  members  of  the  Common  Council,  including 
such  prominent  men  as  Isaac  N.Arnold,  then  our  Representa- 
tive in  Congress,  and  author  of  a  Life  of  Lincoln  ;Lieutenant- 
Governor  Bross,  one  of  the  proprietors  of  the  Chicago 
Tribune,  and  Hon.  Wm.  H.  Brown,  one  of  Chicago's 

124 


to  tfje 


most  distinguished  citizens  and  an  early  Illinois  pioneer. 
Together  with  these  were  several  Eastern  capitalists  con- 
trolling the  road  and  a  goodly  number  of  ministers,  lawyers, 
doctors,  and  prominent  citizens  of  Chicago.  A  full  comple- 
ment of  brilliant  ladies  completed  the  list. 

Northern  Illinois  in  its  primeval  state  was  a  garden  of 
beauty.  Its  vast  stretches  of  virgin  prairie  were  then 
covered  with  a  profusion  of  wild  flowers,  and  the  groves  of 
timber  skirting  the  inland  streams  and  occasional  hillsides 
gave  to  the  whole  scene  an  indescribable  beauty.  Isolated 
farm-houses  here  and  there  dotted  the  then  vast  plains 
where  now  are  fields  of  waving  grams  and  where  cattle  by 
the  thousands  are  herded.  It  seems  incredible  that  only 
fifty  years  ago  this  garden  spot  of  the  world  was  awaiting 
the  coming  of  the  thrifty  husbandman.  The  choicest  of 
land  could  be  had  for  two  dollars  and  a  half  an  acre,  where 
now  one  hundred  dollars  for  the  same  would  be  refused. 
It  seems,  as  I  again  traverse  the  road,  literally  true  that  a 
nation  has  been  born  hi  a  day.  At  that  date,  at  the  point 
where  the  Burlington  crosses  the  Freeport  Division  of  the 
Illinois  Central,  there  was  a  depot  just  finished  and  only 
two  farm-houses  in  sight.  To-day  it  is  the  spot  occupied 
by  the  beautiful  and  flourishing  city  of  Mendota.  The 
saplings  then  planted  by  the  incoming  people,  beautifying 
their  homes,  have  grown  to  be  forests. 

We  left  Chicago  at  nine  o  'clock  in  the  morning,  had  lunch 
in  the  freight  house  where  Mendota  now  stands  and  reached 
the  river  opposite  Burlington  at  four  o'clock.  Here  we 
were  met  by  the  Mayor  and  Common  Council  of  that  newly 
incorporated  city  and  a  large  delegation  of  citizens  who, 

125 


with  ferry  boats,  had  come  across  the  river  to  meet,  welcome 
and  escort  us  to  their  city. 

Though  in  later  years  we  have  traversed  that  mighty 
river  many  times,  and  from  St.  Paul  to  New  Orleans,  this 
was  the  first  time  that  we  had  set  eyes  upon  the  veritable 
stream  where  La  Salle  and  Marquette  had  led  the  way. 
We  had  to  cross  it  by  ferrying,  since  as  yet  not  a  bridge  had 
spanned  its  waters  save  the  little  wooden  structure  at 
St.  Anthony's  Falls  —  now  known  as  Minneapolis.  While 
crossing  the  river,  and  midway  in  the  stream,  when  a  wel- 
come from  the  Mayor  of  Burlington  had  been  responded 
to  by  the  Mayor  of  Chicago,  a  jug  of  water  from  Lake 
Michigan  was  poured  into  the  river,  symbolic  of  the  com- 
mingling of  friendship  and  the  unity  of  interests  that  should 
in  the  future  bind  these  people  as  one.  Hotels  and  private 
homes  were  thrown  wide  open  and  nothing  left  undone 
which  could  insure  the  comfort  of  their  welcome  guests. 

The  Rock  Island  road  had  also  reached  the  river,  con- 
necting Chicago  with  the  towns  of  Rock  Island  and  Daven- 
port. At  Burlington  the  next  morning  our  party  divided, 
a  part  going  down  to  view  the  deserted  town  of  Nauvoo,  and 
the  other  up  to  Rock  Island  by  way  of  the  river.  I  joined 
the  latter  party  and  spent  the  following  night  in  a  hotel  at 
Rock  Island.  I  was  not  at  all  well  and  retired  to  my  room 
at  an  early  hour.  It  happened  to  be  located  across  the 
hall  from  a  large  reception  room  hi  which  Judge  Douglas  was 
to  entertain  his  friends  and  give  to  them  a  recital  of  his 
exploits  in  securing  the  repeal  of  the  Missouri  Compromise. 
It  was  an  exceedingly  warm  night  and  all  doors  and  win- 
dows were  wide  open.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the 

126 


<£fcur£i0n  to  tftc 


Judge  was  then  in  the  zenith  of  his  popularity,  and,  not- 
withstanding the  antagonism  of  the  new  Republican  party, 
was  again  to  be  elected  Senator.  The  matter  of  his  coming 
had  been  well  advertised  and  his  admirers  were  there  in 
full  force.  I  think  the  real  purpose  of  the  Senator  was  to 
furnish  his  political  understrappers  with  lines  of  argument 
with  which  to  turn  the  tide  which  was  sweeping  thousands 
of  men  from  their  ranks  into  those  of  the  "Free  Soil  Demo- 
crats." Though  his  room  was  crowded  to  the  utmost,  his 
position  was  near  the  door  and  I  could  hear  with  the  utmost 
ease.  Of  course  the  clinking  of  glasses  was  a  familiar  sound 
to  such  an  audience,  and  the  Senator  had  not  proceeded 
very  far  in  his  specious  argument  until  a  goodly  number  of 
his  devoted  friends  began  to  be  extremely  hilarious  and 
to  cheer  his  utterances  longer  and  louder  than  they  knew. 
The  Judge 's  arguments  lay  essentially  along  the  same  lines 
as  those  he  later  used  in  his  celebrated  debate  with  Mr. 
Lincoln.  Up  to  that  hour,  although  abhorring  the  work 
he  had  done,  I  still  had  respect  for  Mr.  Douglas.  But  from 
that  time  I  was  obliged  to  write  him  down  not  only  as  an 
arch  scheming  politician,  but  as  an  unprincipled  trickster. 
One  of  his  methods  of  securing  a  vote  for  the  repeal  of  the 
Missouri  Compromise  was  narrated  to  his  audience,  who 
went  wild  over  his  success.  The  men  of  that  day  have 
nearly  all  passed  away;  the  issues  then  rife  have  long  since 
been  settled.  It  may  be  charged  that  I  was  only  an  eaves- 
dropper and  have  no  business  to  repeat  what  I  there  heard. 
His  utterances  were  in  his  usual  vociferous  style,  without 
the  least  suggestion  that  they  were  confidential.  He  said: 
"On  the  evening  before  the  day  when  the  Nebraska  Bill 

127 


^omrfanfc 


was  to  be  finally  voted  upon,  a  distinguished  Senator  who 
had  another  very  important  bill  which  was  soon  to  be  voted 
on,  and  in  which  he  was  greatly  interested,  came  to  me  and 
said:  'Senator  Douglas,  if  you  will  give  your  influence  for 
the  passage  of  my  bill,  I  will  vote  for  the  Nebraska  Bill  to- 
morrow,' whereupon  I  affected  great  rage  and  denounced 
him  roundly.  I  said:  'If  you  cannot  vote  for  the  repeal 
of  the  Compromise  as  a  matter  of  principle,  then  I  don't 
want  your  vote  at  all.  Do  you  propose  to  bargain  the  great 
measures  as  though  they  were  a  mess  of  pottage?  It  is 
beneath  you  as  a  Senator  and  an  insult  to  me,  and  so  sure 
as  I  stand  in  that  Senate  Chamber  to-morrow  I  will  public- 
ly denounce  you.'  He  made  a  most  piteous  plea,  but  I  was 
strenuously  insistent  and  closed  the  interview  abruptly. 
My  bill  was  put  upon  its  passage  the  next  day.  When  the 
roll  call  reached  his  name  there  was  no  response.  It  was 
called  a  second  time,  and  he  faintly  responded  'Aye.' 
Gentlemen,  I  had  him !  And  I  was  not  committed  to  his 
bill,  which  was  to  come  up  later,  neither  did  I  intend  to  be.' " 
I  said  to  myself,  if  one  vote  for  the  repeal  of  the  Missouri 
Compromise  was  thus  obtained,  how  about  the  others? 
How  about  great  principles? 

A  charming  ride  the  next  day,  of  only  five  hours  over  the 
Rock  Island  Road,  brought  us  again  to  Chicago.  We  had 
had  a  delightful  time,  and  laudatory  resolutions  were  passed 
by  acclamation.  Many  pleasant  acquaintances  had 
been  made.  My  special  regret  was  that  Jenny  was  in 
Michigan  and  could  not  share  that  pleasure  with  me. 


128 


CHAPTER  XXI 
VISIT  TO  EASTERN  COLLEGES 

earlier  years  of  my  Chicago  life  were  closely 
-••  devoted  to  my  profession.  My  means  were  limited, 
my  medical  practice,  upon  which  I  was  dependent, 
was  yet  to  be  built,  and  must  of  necessity  command 
my  closest  attention.  Besides  this,  after  my  first 
year  in  Chicago,  and  for  forty  years,  I  was  contin- 
uously engaged  in  medical  teaching  in  college  and 
hospitals.  In  the  furtherance  of  my  medical  interests, 
I  at  once  became  a  member  of  the  local  medical  society 
and  after  a  year  became  its  secretary.  A  year  later  I 
joined  the  Illinois  State  Medical  Society,  and  at  the  fiftieth 
anniversary  of  that  event  I  was  kindly  remembered  at 
the  annual  meeting  by  my  associates  in  Rockford  in  1907. 
I  also  became  a  member  of  the  American  Medical  Asso- 
ciation at  the  annual  meeting  in  Louisville  in  1858.  In 
connection  with  the  State  Medical  Society,  I  was  enabled 
to  form  pleasant  acquaintances  with  the  leading  medical 
men  in  the  state.  I  was  honored  with  the  presidency  of 
the  society,  and  for  twenty  consecutive  years  was  made 
its  treasurer  and  charged  with  the  annual  publication  of 
its  transactions.  When  I  became  treasurer,  the  society 
was  fifty  cents  in  debt;  when  I  left  it,  the  cost  of  trans- 
actions had  been  paid  and  there  was  a  balance  of  four  hun- 
dred dollars  in  the  treasury,  arising  from  the  persistent 
collection  of  annual  dues.  By  this  time  I  was  pretty  well 

129 


Outings? 


known  throughout  the  state,  especially  by  those  who  were 
slow  in  making  payments. 

As  a  member  of  the  American  Medical  Association,  I 
came  to  know  large  numbers  of  prominent  physicians 
throughout  the  Union.  In  the  earlier  years  I  was  not 
always  in  attendance,  but  later  when  for  a  number  of  years 
I  held  official  relations  with  the  Association,  I  traveled  far 
and  near  to  attend  its  meetings.  It  was  not  until  1862 
that  I  broke  away  from  medical  matters  at  home,  and  from 
attendance  upon  medical  lectures,  to  make  a  trip  purely 
for  pleasure;  and  even  this  was  to  be  turned  to  utmost 
practical  account.  It  was  at  the  close  of  a  severe  winter, 
during  the  second  year  of  the  Civil  War.  I  had  lectures 
four  times  a  week  in  the  college;  my  wards  at  Mercy 
Hospital  were  crowded  with  patients,  and  the  "Soldiers' 
Home,"  of  which  I  had  sole  charge,  required  my  daily 
attendance,  so  that  by  April  ist,  I  was  thoroughly  tired 
out. 

Ever  since  the  commencement  of  my  medical  teaching 
I  had  had  a  desire  to  form  the  acquaintance  of  those  who 
were  doing  similar  work  in  the  older  institutions .  The  lectures 
in  the  Eastern  colleges  did  not  close  until  the  first  of  May. 
This  gave  me  a  full  month  for  observation.  Fifty  years 
ago  Philadelphia  was  the  medical  Mecca  of  America.  The 
most  ambitious  of  northern  students  went  there  if  their 
means  would  permit.  It  was  the  common  resort  for 
students  from  the  South,  it  was  the  city  from  which 
nearly  all  our  medical  books  emanated ;  and,  whether  North 
or  South,  we  of  the  profession  were  ready  to  take  off  our 
hats  to  graduates  of  Jefferson  University.  So,  as  others 

130 


to 


had  done  before  me,  I  made  Philadelphia  my  first  objective 
point.  I  made  my  home  at  the  old  Continental  Hotel. 
It  was  a  model  of  neatness  and  of  elegant  moderation,  so 
characteristic  of  that  city  in  the  olden  time.  No  one 
seemed  hurried,  and  yet  everything  went  on  with  silent 
precision.  It  was  an  opportune  time  for  such  a  visit,  for 
a  number  of  the  professors  were  well  advanced  in  years 
and  were  soon  to  retire  from  active  service.  Professor 
Robley  Dunglison  was  one  whom  I  especially  desired  to 
meet.  His  dictionary,  his  volumes  on  Medical  Practice 
and  on  Therapeutics  had  been  my  text-books  since  the  day 
I  commenced  the  study  of  medicine.  It  was  now  a  delight 
to  listen  to  a  living  author  for  whom  I  had  cherished  such 
profound  respect.  In  his  style,  as  in  his  writings,  it  was 
evident  that  he  sought  not  to  be  ornate  nor  eloquent,  but 
simply  in  a  colloquial  manner  to  make  his  points  with 
such  lucidity  and  precision  that  one  could  hang  his  hat 
upon  them  years  afterwards.  I  doubt  if  we  have  yet 
had  another  so  all  round  learned  in  his  profession  as  was 
Robley  Dunglison. 

Professor  Meigs  was  another  of  the  older  men  soon  to 
retire  from  teaching.  His  manner  too  and  his  utterances 
were  in  keeping  with  his  writings.  He  was  an  attractive 
speaker  and  very  popular.  He  would  charm  for  the  time, 
he  was  pleasing  to  the  ear,  but  his  points  were  so  ornately 
dressed  that  they  were  well-nigh  lost  in  their  drapery. 
Still  his  works  on  Obstetrics  and  Diseases  of  Children  were 
the  leading  text-books  in  nearly  all  our  colleges  for  many 
years.  As  Professor  Meigs  had  been  the  successor  of  the 
renowned  Dr.  Dewees,  so  now  Dr.  Pepper  was  soon  to 

131 


succeed  Dr.  Meigs,  with  whom  he  was  already  associated 
in  the  writing  of  medical  text-books.  Dr.  Pepper  was  just 
entering  upon  a  career  in  which  later  he  was  to  be  eminent. 

Professor  S.  D.  Gross  was  in  the  prime  of  his  man- 
hood. He  had  come  from  Louisville  and  was  fast  acquir- 
ing a  national  reputation.  I  think  he  was  the  first  Amer- 
ican to  publish  a  work  on  Pathological  Anatomy  —  one  of 
my  early  text-books.  I  rode  with  him,  saw  several  of 
his  private  patients,  and  often  met  him  in  the  wards  of 
the  hospital. 

This  it  will  be  remembered  was  during  the  second  year 
of  the  Civil  War,  and  the  lines  of  communication  between 
the  North  and  the  South  were  absolutely  closed.  During 
all  the  previous  years  there  had  been  a  large  representation 
of  students  from  the  Southern  states;  but  now  these  were 
all  cut  off  and  the  effect  upon  the  school  was  most  con- 
spicuous. I  think  Philadelphia  has  never  regained  the 
prestige  she  held  before  the  war,  for  up  to  that  time  she 
was  pre-eminently  the  leading  medical  center  in  America. 

After  two  weeks,  in  which  every  waking  hour  had  been 
fully  occupied,  I  went  from  Philadelphia  to  New  York  and 
made  my  home  at  the  Metropolitan  Hotel.  I  at  once 
found  myself  in  very  different  surroundings.  Here  every- 
one was  in  a  hurry.  They  all  seemed  to  think  they  had 
been  born  a  little  late,  but  were  determined  to  catch  the 
next  train.  I  not  only  found  I  was  in  a  strenuous  world, 
but  soon  got  the  move  and  was  planning  to  the  utmost 
what  could  be  accomplished  in  each  single  day.  I  first 
went  to  the  College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons,  and  again 
heard  a  lecture  from  Professor  Alonzo  Clark,  to  whom  I 

132 


i£it  to  <£agtern 


had  listened  for  two  successive  terms  fifteen  years  before 
at  Berkshire  College  in  Massachusetts.  Fifteen  years 
had  wrought  their  changes,  but  there  was  the  same  elegance 
of  manner  and  the  same  beauty  of  diction  which,  in  times 
past,  had  so  endeared  him  to  his  pupils.  He  had  always 
been  my  ideal  as  a  lecturer,  and  it  was  a  sincere  pleasure  to 
listen  to  him  again.  He,  more  than  any  other  man,  was 
the  originator  of  clinical  teaching  in  the  hospitals  of  New 
York,  and  I  can  almost  feel  that  one  betrays  his  ignorance 
of  medical  men  if  he  has  not  known  Alonzo  Clark. 

There,  too,  I  met  Professor  Willard  Parker,  then  the  most 
noted  surgeon  in  New  York  after  Valentine  Mott,  who  had 
already  retired  from  active  practice.  I  was  especially 
desirous  of  meeting  Dr.  Parker,  since  I  had  corresponded 
with  him  with  reference  to  the  death  of  his  brother-in-law, 
Rev.  Dr.  Perkins,  who  was  my  patient  and  whose  death, 
upon  post-mortem  examination,  proved  to  result  from 
appendicitis.  Of  this  disease  he  wrote  me  that  he  had 
tabulated  forty-two  cases,  and  that  they  were  uniformly 
fatal.  Such  was  the  testimony  of  Dr.  Parker  in  1856 
with  reference  to  that  disease,  and  I  well  remember  that 
at  that  date  to  open  the  peritoneal  cavity  was  considered 
an  unwarranted  procedure.  Thus  a  word  with  reference 
to  the  advances  in  surgery.  Before  their  college  classes 
and  in  the  wards  of  the  hospitals,  I  met  a  number  of  noted 
men,  such  as  Gurdon  Buch,  Van  Buren,  Markoe,  Sands, 
Dallon  the  physiologist,  and  Bedford  the  leading  obstetri- 
cian. I  listened  to  their  didactic  lectures  and  was  daily 
present  at  their  clinics  and  was  very  kindly  received  by 
them  all.  To  me  it  was  like  taking  a  post-graduate  course, 

133 


DomdanD 


and  I  was  richly  repaid  for  my  effort.  I  think  I  fully 
appreciated  the  work  of  those  splendid  men,  and  at  the 
same  time  came  home  with  the  conviction  that  Chicago 
Medical  College  was  holding  a  creditable  place  with  the 
best  of  them. 


134 


CHAPTER  XXII 
SOUTHERN  VISIT  — 1865 

Civil  War  ended  with  the  surrender  of  the 
Confederate  Army  in  April,  1865.  For  four  fearful 
years  had  the  two  great  opposing  armies  been  contending 
with  such  supreme  effort  as  has  no  parallel  in  modern 
history.  To  what  the  South  had  been  led  to  believe  was  their 
righteous  cause  they  had  given  their  last  available  man. 
The  blockade  of  their  seaports  had  cut  off  foreign  supplies, 
their  treasury  was  exhausted,  and,  with  no  further  hope  of 
foreign  intervention,  upon  the  surrender  of  Lee's  army 
the  last  hope  of  secession  perished  and  the  war  was  ended. 

It  was  in  October  of  that  year  that  Mrs.  Hollister 
and  I  went  South  to  visit  friends  residing  in  Memphis, 
Natchez,  New  Orleans  and  Thibodaux.  We  traversed 
by  land  and  by  river  a  country  where  prosperity  had 
given  place  to  desolation,  and  where  as  yet  no  signs  of 
recuperation  were  visible. 

During  all  that  desperate  struggle,  save  perhaps  at 
Gettysburg,  the  war  had  been  waged  on  Southern  soil. 
On  land,  camp-fires  had  done  their  worst  with  all  com- 
bustible material,  and  the  unfenced  fields  were  desolate. 
Along  the  river,  in  going  from  Memphis  to  Natchez,  the 
ravages  of  war  were  still  more  apparent.  No  more  were 
there  the  thrdbbings  of  commercial  life,  for  the  marts  of 
trade  were  deserted.  Her  ablest  and  bravest  men  had 
followed  the  fortunes  of  war,  many  of  them  never  to  return, 

135 


while  others  were  seeking  as  best  they  might  to  retrieve 
their  fortunes  elsewhere.  Vast  numbers  of  slaves  still 
clung  to  their  old  plantations  and  sought  the  fostering 
care  of  those  they  had  always  served,  but  the  idle,  the  dis- 
solute, the  vicious  were  still  hanging  around  the  wharves, 
seeming  to  cherish  the  idea  that  somehow  they  were  to 
live  without  work  and  that  freedom  included  daily  bread. 
Only  six  months  had  elapsed  since  the  capture  of  Jef- 
ferson Davis  and  his  confinement  in  Fortress  Monroe. 
The  Southern  leaders  who  survived  were  submitting  to 
the  inevitable,  uncertain  yet  as  to  the  future  status,  not 
only  of  themselves,  but  of  the  revolted  states  as  well,  for 
as  regards  political  relations  their  country  was  in  utter 
chaos  and  under  military  control.  Grief  for  the  "lost 
cause"  was  in  no  wise  assuaged,  nor  destined  to  be  for 
many  a  day  to  come,  and  in  many  hearts,  never.  Yet  in 
the  main  the  people  were  inclined  to  accept  the  result 
quietly  and  were  glad  that  the  war  was  over.  Our  friends 
towards  whom  our  footsteps  were  tending  had  long  an- 
ticipated the  result,  and  were  not  suddenly  surprised  when 
the  war  was  ended.  We  were  received  with  open  arms, 
for,  though  the  struggle  had  been  desperate,  there  had 
been  no  estrangement  of  kindred  ties,  and  the  reunions 
seemed  more  than  ever  dear.  But  among  strangers  in 
our  travels  it  was  sometimes  otherwise.  This  was  perhaps 
most  noticeable  on  some  of  the  Southern  steamers.  While 
there  was  already  much  of  Northern  travel  on  the  river, 
there  were  steamers  who  were  officered  by  men  outspoken 
in  their  sympathy  for  the  Southern  cause.  Such  boats 
were  specially  patronized  by  Southern  ladies.  The  Steamer 

136 


— 1865 


Magenta  was  one  of  these,  and  in  going  from  Natchez 
to  New  Orleans,  we  happened  to  take  that  boat.  Un- 
fortunately for  us  our  costume  indicated  the  region  from 
whence  we  had  come,  for  mine  was  the  only  silk  hat  on 
the  boat,  and  Jenny's  mink  furs  told  the  rest.  We  soon 
observed  that  wherever  we  located  -'n  the  cabin  the  seats 
adjoining  were  quietly  vacated,  and  in  the  course  of  the 
voyage  one  lady,  in  passing  by,  gathered  her  skirts  and 
described  a  slight  semicircle  to  avoid  a  too  near  approach, 
and  to  indicate  that  we  were  "personae  non  gratae."  But 
once  among  our  old  friends  the  contrast  was  most  marked, 
for  strangers  introduced  by  our  friends  received  us  with 
all  the  cordiality  so  characteristic  of  Southern  hospitality, 
and  all  the  while  our  hearts  went  out  to  them  in  deepest 
sympathy,  borne  down  as  they  had  been  by  the  crushing 
weight  of  war.  The  reasons  which  brought  on  the  sad 
conflict  were  never  matters  of  discussion. 

Slavery  had  been  a  national  sin,  and  a  nation's  sacrifice 
was  to  be  the  price  of  its  removal.  There  was  never  a  battle- 
field where  "boys  in  blue  and  boys  in  gray"  had  not 
fallen  side  by  side,  to  rest  in  a  common  hallowed  ground. 
Especially  sad  did  it  seem,  as  we  entered  places  of  worship 
on  Sabbath  days,  to  see  nearly  all  the  ladies  heavily 
draped  in  mourning.  These  simple  emblems  told  of 
griefs  beyond  expression,  of  sorrows  too  heavy  to  be 
borne.  We,  too,  were  mourners,  for  sad  remembrances 
came  of  those  whom  in  this  conflict  we  had  loved  and 
lost. 

While  the  deepest  sorrows  and  losses  that  could  never 
be  recovered  were  hidden  in  stricken  hearts,  the  country 

137 


Domcianti  Outings 


everywhere  told  of  desolation  which  in  the  four  years 
had  overtaken  this  fair  land.  As  we  crossed  the  river 
at  New  Orleans  to  visit  very  dear  friends  in  the  quaint 
old  town  of  Thibodaux,  our  route  lay  along  a  broad,  deso- 
late expanse  where  immense  sugar  plantations,  that 
had  been  the  pride  of  the  South,  were  now  swept  by  the 
besom  of  destruction.  Nor  were  either  Northern  or 
Southern  armies  alone  responsible  for  this  destruction. 
Alternately  and  hi  quick  succession  each  army  had  occu- 
pied this  ground,  until  everything  that  could  serve  a 
soldier's  purpose  had  been  utilized  or  ruthlessly  destroyed. 
Here  and  there  grand  old  trees  remained;  where 
stately  mansions  had  disappeared,  only  fallen  chimneys 
survived  the  burning;  and  skeletons  of  machinery  were 
the  only  remnants  of  the  immense  sugar  houses  which  had 
yielded  such  bountiful  revenues  to  their  opulent  owners. 
Much  as  we  loved  our  beloved  Union,  it  was  sad  that  its 
preservation  must  needs  be  secured  at  such  a  price.  No 
braver  hearts  have  lived  than  those  born  on  this  Southern 
soil,  and  those  who  followed  the  teachings  of  their  leaders 
were  ready  to  give  their  all  in  what  they  deemed  their 
righteous  cause. 

State  rights  had  been  the  doctrine  promulgated  by 
Calhoun  and  his  followers,  until  at  last  "The  state  first, 
whether  in  or  out  of  the  Union"  became  the  battle-cry 
of  the  Rebellion.  And  finally,  when  the  die  was  cast  and 
war  with  all  its  devastations  was  ended,  there  were  no 
braver  hearts  than  these,  to  sweep  away  the  ashes  and 
rebuild  the  old  waste  places.  The  spirit  of  the  people 
is  overborne,  but  it  is  not  broken.  Slavery  is  no  more, 

138 


— 1865 


and  Southern  people  generally  will  welcome  its  departure. 
It  relieves  them  of  a  heavy  burden  in  caring  for  their 
slaves,  and  it  has  long  been  a  question  whether,  in  the 
long  run,  paid  labor  was  not  more  profitable.  The  entire 
nation  mourns  the  loss  which  the  Civil  War  entailed, 
but  seemingly  the  result  could  be  attained  at  no  less 
price.  The  Union  is  preserved,  and  the  Stars  and  Stripes 
will  be  common  to  every  state  and  to  our  ships  on  every 
sea.  The  stain  of  slavery  is  forever  removed,  and  no  more 
are  we  to  be  taunted  as  a  free  nation  while  holding  five 
millions  of  people  in  bondage. 

And  now  that  the  question  is  settled,  an  unwonted 
prosperity  surely  awaits  the  South.  The  natural  products 
of  her  soil  are  destined  to  yield  the  larger  revenue  to 
the  national  treasury  and  her  manufactured  staples  will 
be  carried  to  all  lands.  The  ties  that  bind  us  are  in- 
separable. The  South  has  need  of  the  Union  and  the 
Union  has  need  of  her.  Many  sorrows  encompassed  our 
visit,  but  there  was  much  to  gladden  our  hearts.  Kindred 
ties  seemed  never  so  strong,  and  the  thought  that  we  were 
yet  to  be  of  one  people,  live  under  one  flag,  and  share  the 
precious  heritage  of  a  common  ancestry,  brought  joy  to 
all  our  hearts. 


139 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  CENTENNIAL  EXPOSITION  HELD  AT  PHILA- 
DELPHIA, IN  1876 

TT  was  one  of  the  most  eventful  days  in  the  world's 
•1  history  when  the  independence  of  the  American 
colonies  was  declared  in  Independence  Hall  at  Philadelphia, 
on  July  4,  1776.  From  the  window  of  that  hall  the  Decla- 
ration was  first  given  to  the  world,  and  from  that  window 
our  flag  was  first  unfurled,  proclaiming  that  a  new  nation 
had  been  born.  It  was  a  daring  deed  when  the  brave  men,  as 
they  stood  around  the  table,  gave  their  signatures  to  that 
instrument  which,  in  case  of  failure,  might  prove  their 
death  warrant.  I  think  it  was  Franklin  who  there  said: 
"We  must  all  hang  together  or  we  will  hang  separately." 

The  first  of  the  colonial  settlements  had  been  made 
at  Jamestown,  Virginia,  in  1607,  and  in  1620  the  May- 
flower was  at  Plymouth  Rock.  The  granting  of  charters, 
with  metes  and  bounds  so  indefinite  and  often  so  pre- 
posterous, was  ample  evidence  of  the  ignorance  of  the 
British  King  with  reference  to  these  colonial  possessions. 
There  were  three  dominant  reasons  which  impelled  to  the 
colonization  of  these  remote  lands.  The  most  trivial  of 
these  was  the  love  of  adventure;  the  second  was  the  love 
of  gain ;  the  third  and  strongest  of  all,  the  privilege  to  wor- 
ship God  without  persecution  or  restraint. 

With  all  the  colonies,  whatever  their  religious  tenets 


140 


Centennial 


might  be,  the  question  of  subsistence  was  the  first  essential 
to  success,  and  begat  in  a  vast  number  of  the  colonists  habits 
of  rigid  economy  which  it  would  be  difficult  for  their 
present  descendants  to  understand,  much  less  to  practice. 
In  the  meantime  the  colonies  were  growing  apace,  and 
unconsciously  laying  the  foundations  for  a  great  republic, 
and  developing  an  inherent  power  which  was  soon  to 
astonish  the  world.  It  was  not  the  fostering  care  of  the 
mother  country  that  was  bearing  them  along,  for,  as  said 
by  Patrick  Henry,  "They  grew  by  her  neglect." 

With  the  Declaration  of  Independence  went  forth  a 
decree  that  only  republics  would  possess  this  Western 
continent,  only  Canada,  which  occupies  the  position  of  a 
semi-republic,  being  the  exception  to  this  decree.  When 
the  centennial  was  reached,  the  colonies  as  states  had 
spanned  the  continent.  Florida,  the  French  possessions 
beyond  the  Mississippi,  the  northern  half  of  Mexico,  and 
Alaska  had  been  added  to  our  national  domain.  Our 
population,  which  in  the  time  of  the  Revolution  numbered 
but  three  millions,  had  now  increased  to  forty-five  millions 
of  people,  inhabiting  the  entire  central  belt  of  North 
America.  Blessings  beyond  measure  had  been  meted 
out  to  our  country.  It  was  in  the  heart  of  every  loyal 
citizen  to  fittingly  commemorate  this  centennial  year, 
and  there  was  never  a  question  but  that  Philadelphia 
should  be  the  place  for  the  centennial  gathering. 

In  common  with  the  hundreds  of  thousands  from  our  own 
land  and  from  foreign  countries,  our  little  family,  consisting 
of  Mrs.  Hollister,  our  little  daughter  Belle,  and  myself , visited 


141 


i|)omri»in& 


Philadelphia.  The  weeks  of  our  sojourn  there  gave  us 
one  continuous  unfolding  of  wonderful  experiences.  Our 
journey  in  going  was  over  the  lines  of  the  Pennsylvania 
Central,  a  route  heretofore  by  us  untraveled.  The  moun- 
tain scenery  was  a  continuous  charm,  and  the  "Horse- 
shoe Curve"  seemed  to  us  the  triumph  of  engineering, 
for  we  had  not  as  yet  traversed  the  distant  Rockies, 
nor  at  that  time  had  those  daring  feats  of  mountain  climb- 
ing been  realized.  The  exhibition  had  all  the  advantage 
of  novelty,  and  to  all  eyes  Fairmount  Park  seemed  a  veritable 
fairyland.  For  two  weeks  we  made  our  daily  rounds,  and 
each  night  wondered  if  our  tired  bodies  would  permit  a 
repetition  on  the  following  day.  We  went,  we  toiled,  we 
saw,  until  hardly  another  thing,  be  it  never  so  startling, 
could  tempt  us  farther. 

By  a  wise  forethought  it  had  been  planned  that  the 
meeting  of  the  International  Medical  Congress  should  be 
held  in  Philadelphia  at  this  time.  There  was  a  large 
attendance  of  delegates  from  foreign  countries,  and  the 
profession  in  our  own  country  was  ably  represented.  It 
was  my  privilege  to  be  a  representative  from  the  Illinois 
State  Medical  Society,  and  I  have  counted  my  attendance 
there  as  one  of  the  special  privileges  of  my  life.  It  was 
eminently  befitting  that  Professor  Gross,  a  citizen  of  Phila- 
delphia, and  without  question  then  the  foremost  surgeon 
in  this  country,  should  be  made  the  presiding  officer.  That 
Congress  revealed  to  me  a  dignity  and  a  power  possessed 
by  our  profession  such  as  I  had  never  before  appreciated. 
After  what  they  had  been  permitted  to  see  and  to  hear, 


142 


Centennial 


no  loyal  heart  but  gladdened  at  the  thought  that  he  was 
an  American  citizen. 

We  came  to  our  home  in  safety  —  grateful  for  such 
an  ancestry  and  for  such  a  heritage.  Many  an  evening 
hour  has  been  spent  at  our  home  fireside  in  living  over 
the  pleasant  hours  we  spent  at  the  Centennial  Exposition. 


143 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

DISCOVERY  OF  YELLOWSTONE  PARK 

T  THINK  the  most  unique  and  interesting  homeland 
•••  excursion  I  have  ever  made  was  that  when,  with  Mrs. 
Hollister  and  our  daughter  Isabelle,  I  joined  the  memorable 
excursion  of  "The  Hatch  Party"  for  a  formal  opening  of 
Yellowstone  Park,  which  was  under  the  control  of  the 
Yellowstone  Improvement  Company,  in  1883.  It  was 
unique  in  this  respect  —  that  for  days  we  traversed  vast 
stretches  of  the  "Wild  West"  until,  passing  beyond  the  last 
traces  of  civilization,  we  entered  this,  in  many  respects  the 
pre-eminent  "wonderland"  of  the  world. 

And  if  we  were  to  seek  the  reason  why  this  land  of  wonders 
had  remained  so  long  unknown,  we  shall  not  go  far  to  find 
it.  Of  the  Indian  nations  who  held  primal  claim  to  that 
vast  region  there  were  three  —  the  Siouxans,  the  Algonquins, 
and  the  Shoshones.  Of  the  Siouxan  tribes,  the  Crows  were 
the  most  formidable  and  warlike.  Of  the  Algonquin  family, 
the  Blackfoot  tribe  was  the  most  belligerent,  and  ever  at 
war  with  the  Crows.  The  Shoshones  were  an  inferior 
people,  held  in  derision  by  the  stronger  tribes,  and  by  reason 
of  their  poverty  and  effeminacy  were  termed  "sheep  eaters." 
They  dwelt  where  the  stronger  tribes  did  not  care  to  follow. 
But,  brave  as  the  Indians  were  as  warriors,  they  were  all  in 
deadly  fear  of  the  geyser  lands  as  being  the  gateway  to  the 
infernal  regions,  which,  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the 
human  race,  they  preferred  not  to  enter.  To  them  it  was 

144 


f  eltotogtone 


the  ghost  land,  the  demon  land,  the  land  which,  if  a  good 
Indian  entered,  he  could  never  be  a  good  Indian  again. 
Hence  there  are  but  few  Indian  legends  which  refer  to  this 
purposely  unknown  land.  Of  these  I  have  found  but  one, 
and  that  is  this — that  no  white  man  should  ever  be  told  of 
this  inferno,  lest  he  should  enter  that  region  and  form  a 
league  with  the  devils,  and  by  their  aid  come  forth  and 
destroy  all  Indians.  Hence  the  trappers,  who  were  the  first 
white  men  to  enter  these  western  wilds,  learned  little  or 
nothing  from  that  source ;  and,  having  ample  hunting  grounds 
near  at  hand,  were  not  ambitious  to  invade  those  of  warlike 
Indians,  only  so  fast  as  peaceful  relations  could  be  estab- 
lished. And  thus  time  went  on  until,  in  the  closing  years 
of  the  last  century,  its  wonders  were  to  be  revealed. 

In  speaking  of  its  discovery,  meager  as  my  sketch  must 
be,  there  are  two  names  that  stand  out  so  prominently  as  to 
deserve  a  passing  notice.  They  are  those  of  John  Coulter 
and  James  Bridger.  Coulter  was  a  member  of  the  memora- 
ble expedition  of  Lewis  and  Clark  to  the  Pacific  Coast,  and 
had  been  of  special  service  as  a  leader  of  a  small  band  when 
explorations  were  to  be  made  which  were  deemed  more  or 
less  hazardous,  thus  becoming  one  of  the  most  valuable 
members  of  the  exploring  expedition. 

After  wintering  upon  the  Pacific  Coast,  the  party,  in  the 
spring  of  1806,  began  its  return,  and  in  due  time  was  en- 
camped upon  the  bank  of  the  Missouri  River  at  a  point 
near  by  which  the  present  city  of  Bismarck  is  now  located. 
Instead  of  continuing  with  his  party  down  the  river  to  St. 
Louis,  Coulter,  in  connection  with  two  trappers  who  had 
accompanied  their  expedition,  determined  to  explore  the 

145 


O^utinga 


wild  and  wholly  unknown  sources  of  the  Yellowstone  River. 
Under  solemn  assurance  on  the  part  of  the  rest  of  the  party 
that  they  would  not  break  their  contracts,  Coulter  was 
honorably  released,  with  flattering  testimonials  and  a 
generous  outfit.  He  set  out  upon  one  of  the  most  wonder- 
ful expeditions  then  possible  in  this  country,  and  such  were 
his  powers  of  observation  and  such  his  estimates  of  locali- 
ties that  his  notes  of  discoveries  have  proved  to  be  surpris- 
ingly correct.  The  Lewis  and  Clark  map,  issued  in  1814, 
gives  in  dotted  lines  the  wanderings  of  Coulter  as  he  en- 
tered and  left  Yellowstone  Park,  marking  it  as  "Coulter's 
Route  in  1807."  The  trails  and  mountain  passes  described 
are  therein  termed  discoveries,  since  no  white  man  had  been 
there  before  of  whom  there  is  record.  He  was  the  discoverer 
of  Yellowstone  Lake,  and  first  saw  that  wonderful  sight  of  a 
mammoth  boiling  spring,  so  impregnating  the  air  with  the 
fumes  of  tar  and  sulphur  that  the  stream  that  issued  from 
it  was  named  Stinking  River.  This  was  but  the  beginning 
of  his  discoveries,  which  included  many  of  the  geysers  and 
mammoth  hot  springs.  For  three  years  he  continued  his 
explorations  and  trappings  upon  the  tributaries  of  the 
Yellowstone  and  the  upper  Missouri  rivers,  until,  in  the 
spring  of  1810,  he  dropped  into  a  canoe  and,  traversing  a 
distance  of  three  thousand  miles,  reached  St.  Louis  on  May 
i,  1810,  after  an  absence  of  six  years.  His  descriptions  of 
the  geyser  land  seemed  so  incredible  that  they  were  a  con- 
stant source  of  ridicule,  and  the  region  he  described  was 
termed  "Coulter-shell,"  and  it  was  fifty  years  later  before 
his  statements  had  been  so  fully  verified  as  to  find  a  place 
upon  the  map.  When  the  later  Astoria  party,  so  finely 

146 


iritoto^ftone 


equipped  by  Mr.  Astor,  was  to  start  from  St.  Louis  for  that 
far-off  land,  Coulter  had  a  longing  to  accompany  it,  but  a 
newly  married  wife  and  a  newly  made  home  a  little  above 
St.  Louis  proved  the  stronger  attraction,  and  with  this 
decision  he  passes  from  our  sight;  but  Coulter  had  been  the 
first  man  to  tread  the  wonderland  and  make  a  record  of 
his  travels. 

James  Bridger,  the  other  pioneer  explorer  to  whom  I 
refer,  is  sometimes  spoken  of  as  the  "Daniel  Boone  of  the 
Rockies."  He  was  born  in  Richmond,  Virginia,  in  1804, 
went  west  at  an  early  age,  was  a  member  of  the  Rocky 
Mountain  Fur  Company  at  the  age  of  twenty-two  years, 
and  was  known  as  the  "old  man  of  the  mountains "  before  he 
was  thirty.  His  achievements  and  his  discoveries  were  many, 
and  as  a  pioneer  of  the  great  West,  he  surpasses  any  other 
man  of  whom  we  have  knowledge.  As  a  discoverer  in  the 
great  Rocky  Mountain  region  he,  for  a  long  time,  was  the 
leading  spirit.  He  was  the  first  white  man  to  discover  the 
Great  Salt  Lake  —  the  first  to  discover  the  great  mountain 
pass  which  bears  his  name.  He  built  Fort  Bridger,  so 
intimately  associated  with  the  Mormon  movement,  the 
center  of  many  thrilling  events  in  connection  with  the 
Indians,  and  the  resting-place  for  many  a  weary  "Forty 
Niner"  on  his  way  to  the  gold  fields.  It  is  written  of  him 
that  he  was  a  born  topographer,  and  that  his  intuitions  were 
such  that  he  could  smell  his  way  when  he  could  not  see  it. 

In  his  time  he  became  familiar  with  the  whole  geyser 
country,  its  lakes  and  streams,  its  mountains,  and  its  water- 
falls, and  in  later  years  it  has  been  a  matter  of  constant 
surprise  that  in  his  rough  way  he  should  have  given  the 

147 


l^omelanti 


topography  of  the  country  with  such  accuracy.  As  we  have 
said,  Coulter's  explorations  were  concluded  in  1810,  while 
Bridger 's  far  more  exhaustive  ones  continued  until  1824, 
the  year  of  my  own  birth.  His  reports,  like  those  of 
Coulter,  for  years  were  utterly  discredited.  He  sought  the 
publication  of  his  discoveries  in  various  prominent  journals, 
but  they  seemed  so  incredible  that  his  purpose  was  refused, 
and  the  editor  of  the  Kansas  City  Journal  was  told  "that 
he  would  be  laughed  out  of  town  if  he  published  any  of  old 
Jim  Bridger  's  lies."  But  Bridger  outlived  it  all,  and  before 
his  death,  which  occurred  fifty  years  later,  his  statements 
had  been  verified,  and  these  men  who  had  held  him  in  such 
derision  were  prompt  to  apologize.  Among  them  was  the 
Kansas  City  Journal,  which  might  have  been  the  first  to  give 
to  the  world  a  knowledge  of  his  discoveries  thirty  years  be- 
fore. He  lived  to  see  his  discoveries  amply  verified,  and 
died  in  Washington,  Jackson  County,  Missouri,  in  1881, 
aged  77  years.  Following  these  reports  from  Coulter  and 
Bridger  came  others  from  trappers  and  miners,  so  numerous 
and  so  confirmatory  that,  as  late  as  1859,  the  United  States 
Government  took  the  matter  in  hand  and  ordered  a  corps 
of  topographical  engineers  to  explore  the  region  of  country 
through  which  flow  the  principal  tributaries  of  the  Yellow- 
stone River,  and  the  mountains  in  which  they  and  the 
Galatin  and  Madison  forks  have  their  sources.  This  was 
named,  in  honor  of  its  commander,  "The  Reynolds  Expedi- 
tion," and  James  Bridger,  so  long  held  in  derision,  was 
appointed  as  its  guide.  With  what  commendable  pride 
he  must  have  led,  as  step  by  step  he  unfolded  to  them  the 
wonders  of  that  land,  and  with  them  verified  the  statements 

148 


f  ritotogtonc  f&irfe 


so  long  held  in  derision.  The  report  of  that  expedition  had 
barely  been  made  when  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War  per- 
mitted no  further  thought  in  that  direction. 

Four  years  after  the  close  of  the  war  the  work  of  explora- 
tion was  again  resumed.  It  was  first  undertaken  as  a  pri- 
vate enterprise  by  a  party  of  three  men,  who  determined  to 
confirm  or  refute  the  wonderful  statements  that  were  being 
made.  This  was  in  1868.  The  famous  Yellowstone 
Expedition  of  1870  was  partly  organized  by  Government 
sanction  and  partly  maintained  by  private  enterprise. 
General  Henry  D.  Washburn,  Surveyor- General  of  Montana, 
was  chief  of  the  expedition,  and  Lieutenant  Doane,  in 
command  of  the  United  States  Cavalry,  with  one  sergeant 
and  four  privates,  was  detailed  from  Fort  Ellis  to  act  as 
escort;  and  that  it  might  represent  the  Government  and 
the  civilian  makeup  of  the  enterprise,  it  was  known  as  the 
"Washburn  and  Doane  Expedition." 

It  was  a  formidable  undertaking,  for  the  Indians  were 
still  on  the  warpath  and  eager  for  scalps.  When  the  hour 
for  movement  arrived,  they  found  only  nine  men  who  were 
willing  to  encounter  its  hazards  and  brave  its  dangers. 
They  started  from  Helena,  their  objective  point  being  Fort 
Ellis,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  distant.  There  they 
met  their  escort  and  completed  their  outfit. 

The  party  as  thus  organized  numbered  nineteen  persons, 
as  their  historian  says,  including  two  packers  and  two  col- 
ored cooks;  their  thirty-four  horses  and  mules  and  provisions 
for  a  month's  absence  completed  the  outfit.  It  was  to  be 
an  expedition  surrounded  by  perils,  and,  though  its  men  were 
brave,  they  were  not  without  their  misgivings.  Mr.  Hedges, 

149 


^omriattfc 


one  of  the  number,  who  wrote  fully  of  their  expedition  and 
from  whom  I  quote,  says:  "I  think  a  more  confirmed  set 
of  skeptics  never  went  out  into  the  wilderness  than  those 
who  composed  our  party,  and  never  was  a  party  more  com- 
pletely surprised  and  captivated  by  the  wonders  of  Nature 
which  were  encountered."  Lieutenant  Doane,  so  highly 
esteemed  by  all  who  knew  him,  in  his  able  official  report  of 
the  expedition  confesses  that  at  the  outset  he  shared  in  that 
conviction. 

The  expedition  left  Fort  Ellis  August  22, 1870,  and  struck 
what  is  now  the  north  border  of  the  Park  at  the  mouth  of 
Gardner  River,  where  it  enters  the  Yellowstone.  This 
point  is  but  six  miles  from  the  Mammoth  Hot  Springs,  the 
great  northern  gateway  to  the  Park. 

On  August  26th  they  entered  the  park,  and  from  that 
time  on  encountered  a  scene  of  wonders  of  which  the  half 
had  never  been  told.  It  is  not  within  my  purpose  to 
attempt  to  tell  of  what  was  unfolded  to  them  day  by  day. 
It  must  have  been  when,  after  several  days'  encampment, 
they  stood  at  length  at  the  summit  of  what  is  now  Mt. 
Washburn  that  their  enthusiasm  reached  its  utmost  limit 
and  their  last  misgivings  forever  vanished.  From  that 
grand  mountain,  towering  ten  thousand  feet  above  the  sea, 
the  like  of  which  is  hardly  elsewhere  known,  could  be  seen 
in  the  far  view  the  canyons,  the  falls,  and  the  beautiful 
Yellowstone  Lake,  while  the  vast  plain  before  them  was  dot- 
ted all  over  with  steaming  pits  and  spouting  geysers  that 
seemed  without  number.  Although  they  had  now  but 
barely  entered  upon  their  work  of  exploration,  what  wonder 
if,  standing  upon  this  mountain  peak,  where  no  white  man 

150 


iritotogtone 


had  ever  stood,  their  first  enthusiasm  gave  place  to  reveren- 
tial awe,  as  though  the  earth  were  preparing  for  its  final 
doom.  At  the  close  of  the  day  Lieutenant  Doane  writes: 
"I  am  more  than  satisfied  with  the  opening  of  this  cam- 
paign." From  the  mountain's  height  they  had  beheld  the 
vast  panorama.  They  were  now  to  descend  and  examine 
it  in  detail.  They  were  soon  in  camp  at  the  Yellowstone 
Falls,  where  for  untold  ages  the  river  has  been  carving  out 
that  wonderful  chasm  whose  many-colored  walls  give  to  the 
canyon  an  indescribable  beauty.  They  were  also  at  the 
Upper  Basin  at  an  opportune  time,  when  in  a  single  day  they 
saw  seven  of  the  principal  geysers  in  action  and  gave  them 
the  names  which  they  bear  to-day.  "Old  Faithful,"  then, 
as  now,  was  offering  its  hourly  salutations,  and  then,  as  now, 
commanded  unbounded  admiration. 

As  I  have  stated,  the  expedition  had  left  Fort  Ellis, 
August  22,  1870.  Its  first  encampment  within  the  park 
was  on  August  25th.  Their  last  camp  was  pitched  at  the 
point  where  Gibbons  and  Firehole  rivers  unite  to  form 
Madison  River,  on  September  iQth.  From  this  point 
they  made  an  uneventful  journey  homeward. 

The  news  brought  back  by  this  now  famous  expedition  at 
once  went  worldwide,  as  it  gave  to  the  public  their  first 
reliable  information  respecting  this  "Prince  of  Wonder- 
lands." The  official  report  of  Lieutenant  Doane,  made  to 
the  Government  in  December,  1870,  is  a  model  in  its  way, 
and  was  the  first  official  report  upon  the  upper  Yellowstone 
country. 

Who  first  originated  the  idea  of  reserving  the  whole  geyser 
region  from  sale  and  the  converting  of  it  into  a  great  nation- 
is* 


J^omrianti 


al  park  has  been  a  matter  of  much  discussion.  The  im- 
portance of  such  a  reservation  was  freely  expressed  at  the 
camp-fire  even  before  the  expedition  had  left  the  park,  and 
it  is  believed  that  an  article  published  in  the  Helena 
Herald  on  November  9,  1870,  written  by  Cornelius  Hedges, 
a  member  of  the  exploring  party  was  the  first  public  refer- 
ence to  the  park  system. 

Hon.  Nathaniel  P.  Langford  of  Helena  was  one  of 
the  most  ardent  advocates  for  the  creation  of  a  great 
national  park  which  should  include  the  entire  wonderland. 
During  the  fall  of  1871,  he  wrote  a  series  of  articles  in 
Scribner's  Magazine,  and  lectured  in  Washington  and  other 
cities.  In  all  these  the  creation  of  a  park  was  the  burden 
of  his  theme.  The  New  York  Tribune,  under  date  of 
January  23,  1871,  quotes  from  one  of  his  addresses  as  fol- 
lows: "This  is  probably  the  most  remarkable  region  of 
natural  attractions  in  the  world,  and  while  we  have  our 
Niagara  and  our  Yosemite  already,  this  new  field  of  wonders 
should  be  at  once  withdrawn  from  occupation  and  set  apart, 
as  a  public  national  park,  for  the  enjoyment  of  the  Ameri- 
can people  for  all  time." 

A  bill  for  its  creation  passed  the  Senate  with  practically 
a  unanimous  vote  on  January  30,  1872.  The  bill  was  con- 
curred in  by  the  House  on  February  27th,  and  on  March 
ist  received  the  President's  signature.  In  1891  a  large 
addition  to  the  park  was  made,  as  a  forest  reservation,  in- 
creasing the  area  under  park  control  to  five  thousand  square 
miles.  In  each  year  succeeding  the  famous  pioneer  one  in 
1870,  important  explorations  were  made  both  by  the  Govern- 
ment and  private  parties.  A  series  of  park  superintendents 

152 


were  placed  in  control,  some  of  them  above  reproach  and 
some  notoriously  otherwise.  For  a  time  its  management 
was  committed  to  an  organization  known  as  the  Yellow- 
stone Park  Improvement  Company.  The  description  of 
its  formal  opening  must  be  reserved  for  another  number.* 

This  chapter  was  written  as  an  introduction  to  an  account  of  the  won- 
derful excursion  given  by  Mr.  Rufus  Hatch  to  a  party  of  an  hundred 
foreign  and  American  guests  at  the  opening  of  the  Park  in  August,  1883. 
Our  family  were  members  of  this  party  and  it  was  my  father's  intention 
to  write  his  remembrances  of  this  trip,  but  he  never  did  so. — I.  H.  M. 


CHAPTER  XXV 
THE  SAN  FRANCISCO  EARTHQUAKE 

WE  had  left  Santa  Barbara  on  the  morning  of  April 
1 7th,  and  arrived  at  the  Palace  Hotel  in  San 
Francisco  at  eleven-thirty  the  same  evening.  At  5:15 
the  next  morning  we  were  awakened  instantly  from  a 
sound  sleep,  and  at  once  recognized  that  an  earthquake 
was  convulsing  everything  around  us.  One  must  pass 
through  such  an  experience  to  appreciate  what  we  realized, 
for  it  cannot  be  told.  Although  the  severity  of  the  shock 
lasted  a  little  less  than  a  minute,  it  seems  now  perfectly 
incredible  that  so  much  of  thought  and  dread  could  be 
compressed  into  a  single  moment.  The  rotary  motion  of 
our  immense  building  was  terrific,  and  when  one  vertical 
thud  was  succeeded  by  a  second,  it  seemed  as  though  a 
third  would  bring  the  walls  crashing  down  upon  us.  We 
were  in  breathless  suspense,  but  the  third  was  not  to  come. 
Soon  only  the  gradually  subsiding  tremors  were  felt,  and  in 
a  few  moments  all  was  still.  The  heavy  stucco  ornamen- 
tation had  fallen  and  broken  glass  was  all  around  us,  but 
the  walls  of  our  room  were  intact  and  we  were  unhurt. 

The  doors  were  no  longer  perpendicular,  and  ours  could 
not  be  opened.  For  the  moment  we  seemed  shut  in,  not 
knowing  what  next  might  befall  us.  Fortunately  our  room 
faced  inward  upon  the  immense  court  —  one  of  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  Palace  Hotel  —  and  happily  our  window 
yielded  to  my  effort,  and  through  this  window  we  could 

154 


IN  CALIFORNIA,  1906 


francigco 


reach  a  balcony,  at  the  end  of  which  was  a  series  of  stairs 
by  which  we  could  effect  our  escape.  As  soon  as  we  had 
completed  our  dressing  —  for  all  was  now  at  rest,  so  far  as 
the  earth  was  concerned — we  emerged  from  our  prison,  and 
found  our  way  down  and  into  the  open  street.  Here 
was  a  scene  to  behold!  Men,  women,  and  children  had 
escaped  into  the  streets  for  fear  of  falling  walls,  and  were 
now  a  commingled  mass  in  a  dazed  condition,  uncertain 
what  next  to  do.  As  our  hotel  was  seemingly  free 
from  danger,  my  wife  and  I  returned  to  the  rotunda  and 
found,  by  the  glimmer  of  a  distant  tallow  candle,  that  the 
office  had  opened  for  business.  I  went  thither,  found  an 
old  gentleman,  utterly  confused  but  trying  as  best  he  could 
to  run  the  finances,  and  settled  my  bill.  I  had  so  far 
recovered  myself  that  when  he  handed  me  a  nickel  in  place 
of  a  five-dollar  gold  piece  in  making  change,  I  declined  the 
offer.  At  the  moment  of  the  earthquake  shock,  the 
preparations  for  early  breakfast  were  well  under  way  and 
the  doors  of  the  immense  serving  room  were  thrown  wide 
open.  Not  a  servant  was  on  duty,  although  I  attempted  to 
corral  one  as  he  went  running  through  the  court.  The 
first  look  into  the  serving  room  revealed  the  fact  that  here 
was  an  opportunity.  A  little  man  of  Jewish  persuasion 
had  preceded  me,  as  they  often  do,  and  had  his  hands  full 
of  food  for  his  wife  and  children.  Not  to  be  outdone  in  a 
thing  so  laudable  I  quickly  entered  upon  the  same  business. 
There  were  piles  of  plates,  cups,  and  spoons,  a  huge  tank  of 
hot  coffee,  and  another  of  cream;  hot  rolls  were  in  the 
chute  that  sent  them  from  the  bakery.  With  none  to 
say  nay,  I  gathered  a  free  supply,  and  soon  Jenny  and  I 


t)omdan& 


were  sitting  at  one  of  the  many  lunch  tables  in  the  court, 
preparing  for  what  might  come  next  over  our  delicious 
dishes  of  coffee  and  hot  rolls.  Our  morning  meal  completed, 
we  again  betook  ourselves  to  the  street,  where  crowds  of 
people  were  still  as  uncertain  and  aimless  as  before.  We 
had  already  heard  that  the  city  in  the  distance  was  on  fire, 
but  now,  as  we  looked  down  Market  Street  in  the  direction 
of  the  ferry,  we  saw  it  in  full  blaze,  and  the  fire  under  the 
pressure  of  a  strong  breeze  coming  toward  us. 

Our  purpose  had  been  to  cross  over  to  Oakland,  but  the 
fire  was  between  us  and  our  friends.  .Our  next  thought 
was  to  go  to  friends  —  the  Eastman  brothers  and  their 
families  on  Valencia  Street.  To  go  to  them  seemed  the 
safe  and  immediate  thing  to  do,  especially  as  our  course 
led  us  away  from  the  fire,  which  was  now  assuming  alarm- 
ing proportions.  It,  by  this  time,  became  evident,  also, 
that  fires  were  starting  in  many  places  independent  of 
each  other,  where  furnaces  were  in  blast  and  their  chim- 
neys had  been  shaken  down.  Our  course  lay  up  Market 
Street,  some  three  miles  to  Valencia  Street.  Mission  Street 
runs  parallel  with  Market  Street,  and  up  that  street  the 
fire  ran  so  rapidly,  consuming  wooden  buildings,  as  to  keep 
even  pace  with  us,  the  best  we  could  do.  Of  course  we 
were  on  foot,  for  not  a  vehicle  could  be  had  for  love  or 
money.  Our  fear  was  that  the  fire  would  get  in  advance, 
cross  over  to  our  street,  and  shut  us  off  from  our  destination. 
Thus  we  forged  on  as  best  we  could,  and  outran  the  flames 
and  met  our  friends.  Our  meeting  was  a  great  surprise, 
as  they  had  thought  us  yet  in  southern  California.  The 
first  one  discovering  us  at  our  approach  ran,  put  his  hand 

156 


francigco  <£artf)quahe 


upon  my  shoulder,  looked  me  in  the  face  as  if  to  be  sure,  and 
exclaimed:  "Lord  bless  my  soul  and  body  —  where  did 
you  come  from?"  The  fronts  of  their  buildings  were 
lying  across  the  sidewalks,  the  families  were  in  the  street, 
and,  of  course,  human  emotions  were  at  their  height.  It 
was  a  glad  hour,  for  now,  for  the  first  moment,  we  felt  safe 
so  far  as  fire  was  concerned.  Whether  the  earth  would 
again  tremble  we  did  not  know,  but  our  friends  had  plenty 
of  teams  and  men  in  their  employ  for  our  safe  conveyance 
should  the  fire  finally  reach  this  point  —  as  it  later  did. 

During  the  afternoon  the  men  pre-empted  a  little  resting 
place  in  Mission  Park,  to  which  a  retreat  could  be  made  if 
necessary.  It  was  a  fearful  afternoon,  and  for  several  hours, 
from  a  high  point,  we  could  only  watch  the  progress  of  the 
fire  slowly  coming  towards  us  as  block  after  block  of  the 
finest  buildings  in  the  city  were  being  consumed.  Steadily 
the  fire  was  coming  towards  us,  and  at  two  o'clock  that 
night  we  left  the  old  Eastman  homestead,  which  was  soon 
to  disappear,  and  made  our  way  to  a  brother's  house  about 
a  mile  away.  We  had  no  need  of  the  light  of  the  sun  nor  of 
the  moon;  even  the  light  of  the  stars  was  shut  out.  The 
blaze  of  that  burning  city  was  all  too  bright  to  be  endured. 
We  reached  the  home  of  Edward  Eastman,  and  awaited  the 
coming  of  the  day.  Every  hour  the  fire  had  been  steadily 
approaching,  and  at  ten  o  'clock  a  cavalry  officer  came  dash- 
ing up  the  street,  his  scabbard  rattling  at  his  side,  and 
shouting,  "You  must  all  move  on  at  once;  these  buildings 
will  be  dynamited  within  an  hour."  The  explosions  of 
dynamite  in  the  destruction  of  buildings  for  the  last  twelve 
hours  had  been  terrific.  A  walk  of  another  mile  brought  us 


to  the  early  selected  camping  place  at  Mission  Park.  It 
was  now  densely  crowded  by  fugitives  from  the  fire,  and 
every  available  spot  was  occupied.  As  the  sun  rose  in  the 
heavens  the  heat  was  almost  unbearable,  and  our  umbrellas 
were  our  only  shields.  In  the  early  afternoon  it  became 
evident  that  we  must  make  still  another  move.  This  need 
had  been  early  anticipated,  and  a  beautiful  spot  on  a  shaded 
lawn  in  Golden  Park  had  been  secured;  and  to  this  sheltered 
retreat  we  made  our  fourth  move;  and  for  the  first  time, 
at  the  evening  of  the  second  day,  felt  ourselves  safe  from 
the  further  encroachment  of  the  fire. 

There  were  now  some  six  families  represented  in  our  group, 
and  a  sufficiency  of  food  and  clothing  to  make  us  comfort- 
able. Our  men  soon  improvised  a  very  efficient  camp-fire, 
and  for  the  first  time  in  the  two  days  since  the  earthquake  we 
all  partook  of  a  substantial  meal,  prepared  as  only  old  pros- 
pectors and  miners  knew  how  to  do  it.  That  twilight 
scene  as  night  drew  on  was  one  never  to  be  forgotten.  The 
heavens  were  ablaze  with  the  light  of  the  burning  city,  and 
the  great  forest  trees  that  intervened  seemed  sharply  sil- 
houetted upon  the  sky.  At  ten  o'clock  we  betook  our- 
selves to  mattresses  spread  upon  the  grassy  lawn,  canopied 
by  beautiful  shrubbery  and  stately  trees,  and  with  our  um- 
brellas so  spread  over  our  heads  as  to  shield  us  from  the  dew 
and  the  falling  ashes.  Despite  the  scenes  through  which 
we  had  passed,  there  was  yet  a  humorous  side.  With  both 
homes  gone,  dear  Bessie  Eastman  put  her  hands  upon  the 
shoulders  of  her  two  brothers  and,  with  a  nervous  laugh, 
said:  "We  are  all  here,  and  that  is  enough  to  be  thankful 


158 


for."  As  I  have  said,  two  of  the  men  in  our  company  were 
old-time  hunters  and  prospectors,  and  most  at  home  when 
camping  out.  It  was  they  who  prepared  our  meals  upon 
a  little  sheet-iron  pocket  cook  stove.  It  was  they  who  pre- 
pared a  specially  nice  bed  for  Mrs.  Hollister  and  myself. 
It  was  one  of  them  who  went  to  Jenny  and  said  in  a  quiet 
way:  "Mrs.  H.,  your  bed  is  now  ready;  you  can  say  your 
prayers  and  go  to  bed."  It  was  he  who  came  in  the  small 
hours  and  inquired  if  we  wished  a  cup  of  hot  coffee.  We 
wakened  up  just  enough  to  say,  "No,  thanks, "  and  were 
again  sound  asleep.  Despite  the  fact  that  there  were  one 
hundred  thousand  people  camping  in  the  park,  and  they 
were  constantly  coming  and  going,  we  both  slept  soundly 
and  awoke  in  the  early  morning  refreshed  and  even 
invigorated  by  the  pure  fresh  morning  air.  A  well- 
prepared  breakfast  was  soon  awaiting  us. 

Knowing  the  inexpressible  anxiety  from  which  our 
friends,  who  knew  that  we  were  at  the  Palace  Hotel,  must 
suffer,  as  they  must  yet  be  ignorant  of  our  fate,  we  longed 
to  be  with  them.  The  Eastman  brothers  determined  to 
make  the  effort  to  shun  the  fire  and  land  us  at  the  ferry  by 
which  we  might  reach  our  friends  in  Oakland,  and  they  did 
it.  Mr.  George  M.  Eastman,  with  a  powerful  horse  and  a 
strong  business  wagon,  finally  reached  Market  Street,  which 
had  been  swept  by  the  fire,  the  heat  of  which  had  scarcely 
died  down;  and  along  that  street,  over  heaps  of  brick  from 
fallen  walls,  along  gaping  seams  of  earth,  and  between  fall- 
ing ruins  yet  hot  and  smoldering,  we  made  our  way  crash- 
ing over  barricades  of  brick  which  well-nigh  filled  the 


159 


l^omdanfc 


street,  and  finally  reached  the  ferry  at  8  A.  M.  We  were 
soon  with  our  friends  in  Oakland,  who  had  been  nearly  wild 
and  sleepless  by  reason  of  their  anxiety. 

The  churches  in  Oakland  were  all  turned  into  eating 
houses,  and  we  both  lent  a  helping  hand  for  three  days  in  the 
feeding  of  the  multitudes.  How  we  did  strive  to  get  tele- 
grams to  our  children,  only  to  find,  after  depositing  several, 
that  there  were  five  thousand  messages  ahead  of  ours,  and 
it  was  not  until  five  days  later  that  our  children  had  knowl- 
edge of  our  safety. 

Our  friends  in  Sacramento  were  claiming  us  as  their 
guests,  and  for  a  few  days  we  were  with  them.  In  the 
golden  days  of  the  early  fifties,  this  was,  next  to  San 
Francisco,  the  most  famous  city  on  the  coast.  Here  was 
the  famous  Fort  Sutter,  whose  owner,  Colonel  Sutter  was 
digging  a  mill  race  in  which  gold  was  first  discovered.  The 
fort  has  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  Sons  of  California,  and 
will  be  a  rallying  point  for  all  time  to  come. 

Another  week  was  spent  at  Salt  Lake  with  Sister  Jean- 
nette,  her  two  daughters,  and  their  families;  and  then,  turn- 
ing homeward,  we  reached  Chicago  on  Thursday,  May  9, 
1906,  after  an  absence  of  four  months. 

The  question  has  often  been  asked  us  as  to  what  became 
of  our  baggage.  The  answer  is  worth  recital.  When 
leaving  Santa  Barbara  for  San  Francisco,  I  requested  to 
have  our  baggage  checked  to  Oakland.  The  agent  said 
he  could  only  check  it  to  San  Francisco,  as  my  tickets  would 
need  to  be  validated  at  San  Francisco,  and  until  that  was 
done  the  baggage  could  not  be  checked  beyond  that  point. 
"But,"  said  he,  "I  can  check  it  to  the  Ferry  and  you  can 

1 60 


f rancigco  <£art|)quafee 


send  over  from  Oakland,  and  it  will  be  delivered  to  you 
when  your  tickets  have  been  signed."  So  instead  of  its 
going  to  our  hotel,  where  it  surely  would  have  been  lost, 
during  the  night  it  had  been  transferred,  and  when  the 
earthquake  occurred  it  was  safely  housed  at  the  Ferry. 
As  the  fire  swept  down  and  threatened  to  burn  the  baggage 
rooms  in  which  were  stored  cords  upon  cords  of  trunks, 
steamers  were  chartered  and  loaded  with  trunks  and  went 
floating  in  the  bay  until  the  fire  went  down  and  then 
were  returned;  and  on  the  fourth  day  our  trunks  came 
to  us  safe  and  sound. 


161 


African 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

AFRICAN  SLAVERY 

PREFATORY  NOTE.  At  first  it  was  my  purpose  to  trace  the 
progress  of  slavery  in  the  United  States  during  the  period  of 
my  remembrance,  and  the  causes  which  finally  led  to  its  over- 
throw. But  that  period  is  so  inseparably  related  to  the  time 
and  manner  of  its  introduction  into  this  country  as  to  neces- 
sitate the  further  consideration  of  the  subject  while  we  were  yet 
colonies.  In  this  connection  we  are  brought  directly  face  to 
face  with  the  African  slave  trade,  with  the  thirty  years'  struggle 
for  British  emancipation, —  the  declaration  that  the  slave 
trade  was  piracy  —  and  thus,  to  the  general  subject  of  slavery. 

The  consideration  of  these  several  subjects  in  a  successive 
series  of  chapters  seems  best  to  prepare  the  way  for  a  very 
brief  review  of  the  progress  and  final  overthrow  of  slavery  as  I 
have  been  permitted  to  witness  it,  beginning  with  slavery  itself. 

HUMAN   SLAVERY 

TT  is  impossible  to  trace  back  to  any  period  in  the 
•*•  history  of  the  human  race  when  slavery  was  unknown. 
More  than  three  thousand  years  ago  it  was  in  full  develop- 
ment, for  then  the  Phoenicians  were  actively  engaged  in 
capturing  people  wherever  they  might  and  selling  them 
as  slaves.  The  Chinese  records  show  that  slavery  was 
prevalent  in  that  empire  more  than  thirteen  centuries 
before  the  Christian  era.  The  same  was  true  in  Syria,  in  Per- 
sia, in  Babylonia,  while  in  Tyre  and  Sidon,  slaves  constituted 
a  majority  of  the  inhabitants.  In  Abraham's  time  men 

165 


African 


were  held  in  bondage.  At  that  date  the  Numidians  were 
slave  dealers,  and  when  one  of  their  caravans  was  on 
its  way  to  Egypt,  it  seemed  vastly  better  for  the  sons 
of  Jacob  to  sell  Joseph  into  bondage  rather  than  that 
he  be  left  to  perish  in  a  pit.  The  kindred  of  Joseph  went 
down  into  Egypt,  seventy  in  number.  In  process  of 
time  their  tribes  numbered  three  millions,  and  all  were 
slaves.  It  was  then  that  the  sons  of  Ham  were  the  masters 
and  the  pale-faced  children  of  Shem  were  their  servants. 
In  our  day  the  line  of  color  is  drawn  otherwise.  The  status 
and  treatment  of  slaves  varied  greatly,  not  only  as  to 
the  age  in  which  they  lived,  but  also  in  the  usages  of  those 
nations  to  whom  they  were  in  bondage.  Of  all  the  nations, 
the  Germans  seemed  to  have  been  the  most  considerate. 
Many  of  their  slaves  became  skilled  artisans,  others,  men 
of  letters,  and  some  even  became  councilors  of  state. 
But,  though  they  were  sometimes  vested  with  great  re- 
sponsibilities, they  were  never  promoted  to  the  dignity 
of  citizenship.  Such  conditions  must  have  been  indeed 
exceptional,  for  the  most  abject  servitude  was  the  common 
lot  of  slaves.  Both  before  and  after  the  Christian  era 
wars  were  waged — nation  with  nation,  tribe  with  tribe  — 
not  so  much  for  the  conquest  of  territory  as  for  the  capture 
of  slaves;  and  there  seems  to  have  been  little  regard  as 
to  the  nationality  or  color.  When  the  Roman  legions 
swept  over  Gaul  and  the  shores  of  Scythia,  thousands  of 
captives  with  blue  eyes  and  yellow  hair  were  sent  to  Rome, 
and  when  told  that  they  were  Angles,  it  is  said  the  pontiff 
exclaimed,  "These  are  the  angels." 
African  slavery  seems  to  date  from  about  the  time 

166 


commercial  relations  were  established  between  Rome 
and  the  city  of  Carthage,  when  domestics  were  imported 
to  the  former  city,  as  articles  of  merchandise.  During 
the  days  of  the  Roman  republic,  domestics  were  largely 
obtained  in  this  manner.  It  was  when  Rome  passed 
under  the  rulership  of  kings  that  Africa  paid  heaviest 
tribute  in  slaves.  When  Regulus  invaded  Carthage  in 
B.  c.  256,  after  a  deadly  conflict,  he  took  twenty  thousand 
slaves  back  to  the  Roman  capital. 

But  Roman  conquests  had  extended  elsewhere  far  and 
wide.  Africa  furnished  but  a  small  percentage  of  those 
brought  home  as  slaves.  When  Julius  Caesar  had  con- 
quered Gaul,  he  sent  home,  first  and  last,  more  than  half  a 
million  captives.  Augustus  Caesar  sold  thirty-six  thousand 
slaves,  the  larger  part  of  them  able-bodied  men,  to  re- 
plenish the  cost  of  his  campaign.  Slaves  were  in  those 
days  considered  of  commercial  value  the  world  over,  and 
often  only  by  this  means  could  the  tribute  of  a  conquered 
people  be  secured.  The  result  was  that,  in  process  of  time, 
Italy  literally  swarmed  with  slaves.  It  was  at  that  period 
that  agriculture  was  considered  the  noblest  of  all  callings, 
and  land  estates  often  assumed  vast  proportions;  and  we 
are  told  that  upon  one  of  these  alone  twenty  thousand 
slaves  were  employed.  But  the  day  of  doom  for  Italy 
was  yet  to  come,  and  when  it  did  come  the  slaves  became 
the  masters.  During  the  first  century  of  the  Christian 
era  the  power  of  the  Gospel  to  mitigate  these  evils  was 
markedly  manifest.  While  slaves  were  still  obedient  to 
their  masters,  masters  were  also  counseled  to  treat  their 
slaves  as  Christian  brethren.  Paul's  letter  to  Philemon 

167 


African 


was  a  special  plea  for  Onesimus,  a  runaway  slave.  Wars 
were  continually  waged  between  Christians  and  the 
Turks,  and  while  a  Christian  might  not  sell  his  brother, 
it  was  no  sin  for  him  to  sell  a  Turk.  The  fortunes  of  war 
varied,  and  on  either  side  large  numbers  of  captives  were 
held,  either  for  sale  or  ransom.  As  evidence  of  this,  two 
instances  will  suffice  among  the  many  that  are  recorded. 

When  the  Turks  were  defeated  at  the  Battle  of  Lepento 
in  1577,  twelve  thousand  Christians  were  liberated;  and 
still  earlier,  in  1535,  when  Charles  V  captured  Tunis, 
he  liberated  twenty  thousand  slaves.  The  capture  of 
defenseless  people  to  be  sold  into  servitude  was  long 
continued. 

As  late  as  the  fourteenth  century  the  corsairs  of  the 
Mediterranean  were  still  a  terror  to  western  Europe,  and 
indeed  it  was  not  until  our  own  vessels,  in  1816,  went  after 
them  that  they  were  finally  exterminated. 

As  the  years  of  the  Christian  era  went  on,  and  revolutions 
in  Italy  and  elsewhere  gave  freedom  to  vast  numbers  whose 
ancestors  had  been  bondmen,  the  traffic  in  slaves  nearly 
ceased,  since  slavery  was  no  longer  found  remunerative, 
and  it  was  no  longer  possible  to  enslave  the  Caucasian  race. 
Gradually  for  several  centuries  the  demand  had  been 
falling  off,  until  not  more  than  three  or  four  hundred 
slaves  were  imported  in  a  single  year.  But  with  the  dis- 
covery of  America  there  dawned  a  new  era,  and  with 
that  discovery  began  the  saddest  chapters  in  the  history 
of  human  slavery.  The  discovery  of  the  West  India 
islands  led  to  their  early  occupation  by  Spanish  emigrants, 
and  the  rich,  alluvial  soil  of  those  islands  gave  such  large 

168 


i^uman 


returns  that  field  labor  was  at  once  in  great  demand;  and 
it  was  found  that  one  African  negro  was  worth  four  of  the 
natives  in  the  cultivation  of  the  soil,  since  the  African 
climate  specially  fitted  him  for  the  work  to  be  performed  in 
tropical  climates.  An  unlimited  demand  for  African  slave 
labor  was  the  result,  and  to  meet  it  there  commenced  a 
traffic  in  human  beings,  known  as  the  African  Slave  Trade. 
The  first  introduction  of  slaves  to  the  West  Indies  was 
made  in  1603,  when  a  cargo  of  African  slaves  was  landed 
in  Hayti,  and  put  to  work  on  the  plantations  there.  The 
trade  had  received  the  sanction  of  the  Spanish  Government, 
when  the  King,  in  1510,  ordered  fifty  slaves  to  be  sent  to 
Hispanola,  to  work  in  the  gold  mines  there,  thus  antedating 
their  introduction  to  Virginia  by  one  hundred  and  nine 
years.  It  was  not  until  1582  that  England  became  im- 
plicated in  this  African  slave  traffic,  when  John  Hawkins, 
partly  by  trade  and  partly  by  violence,  secured  a  cargo 
of  slaves,  which  he  sold  in  the  West  Indies  at  an  immense 
profit.  Queen  Elizabeth  reproved  him  sharply  for  this 
transaction,  but  seems  to  have  shared  in  the  profits,  and 
later  bestowed  upon  him  the  honor  of  knighthood.  That 
Queen  Anne  also  lent  her  sanction  to  the  trade  is  evident 
from  the  fact  that  when  the  "Royal  African  Company" 
was  formed,  which  contracted  to  furnish  the  English 
Government  a  sufficient  supply  of  merchantable  negroes 
to  meet  the  demands  of  her  colonies,  she  subscribed  for  one 
fourth  of  the  stock.  That  the  slave  trade  was  considered 
a  legitimate  business  is  evident,  for  between  the  years  1729 
and  1750,  the  British  Government  made  appropriations 
to  the  amount  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  dollars 

169 


African 


for  the  building,  repairing,  and  maintaining  of  forts  and 
slave  pens  on  the  coast  of  Africa.  An  important  fact  should 
here  be  noted,  that  in  the  year  1641  the  culture  of  sugarcane 
was  first  introduced  into  the  island  of  Barbadoes.  This 
new  industry  soon  became  exceedingly  profitable  and 
greatly  increased  the  demand  for  slaves.  From  this  time 
on,  the  slave  traffic,  under  the  British  flag,  went  forward 
by  leaps  and  bounds.  In  1662,  Charles  II  char- 
tered "The  Royal  Trading  Company  of  Africa,"  which 
bound  itself  to  deliver  three  thousand  slaves  annually 
to  the  British  West  India  islands.  As  evidence  of  the 
enormous  proportions  to  which  the  traffic  early  attained, 
we  have  only  to  state  the  number  of  vessels  in  the  leading 
English  ports,  fitted  exclusively  for  that  purpose.  Thus 
the  records  show  that,  hi  the  year  1762,  London  had  135, 
Bristol  157,  Liverpool  187,  numbering  in  all  in  these 
three  ports,  479  vessels  devoted  to  the  slave  trade. 

It  is  asserted  that,  at  this  time,  the  Government  thus 
derived  a  greater  revenue  than  from  all  other  sources 
combined,  and  it  is  a  proud  record  for  the  English  people 
that,  in  the  face  of  such  pecuniary  profits,  they  were  able 
to  achieve  a  bloodless  overthrow  of  slavery,  by  the  triumph 
of  moral  sentiment.  But  the  day  of  deliverance  was  not 
to  be,  as  we  shall  see,  until  after  a  desperate  struggle  which 
lasted  for  thirty  years.  In  the  West  Indies  the  demand  for 
slaves  far  exceeded  the  supply,  while  during  our  colonial 
period  the  culture  of  tobacco  and  indigo  made  slave  labor 
immeasurably  profitable,  and  especially  so  after  the  cul- 
ture of  cotton  was  introduced,  and  the  cotton  gin  had  been 
invented  by  Eli  Whitney  in  1793.  The  soil  in  the  Gulf 

170 


i^unian 


states  was  not  only  wonderfully  adapted  for  its  cultivation, 
but  the  climate  was  just  suited  to  its  needs.  The  invention 
of  the  cotton  gin  increased  the  production  and  manu- 
facture at  home,  and  the  exportation  was  simply  marvelous. 
England  soon  entered  largely  into  its  importation,  and  it 
was  not  long  before  the  larger  supply  was  received  from 
the  United  States.  The  Gulf  States  were  awakened  to 
unparalleled  activity  in  securing  slave  labor.  The  demand 
for  slaves  so  far  exceeded  the  supply,  both  in  the  West 
Indies  and  the  United  Colonies,  as  greatly  to  enhance 
the  price,  and  the  profits  were  such  as  to  stimulate  the 
utmost  exertion. 

In  securing  slaves  for  shipment,  no  means,  however 
diabolical,  were  left  untried  that  would  insure  the  result. 
Kidnaping  in  every  form  was  common,  and  when  this 
method  was  exhausted,  every  conceivable  means  were  used 
to  incite  intertribal  wars;  and  these  wars  for  the  securing 
of  captives  to  be  sold  to  the  coast  trade  extended  far  inland, 
tribe  after  tribe  was  annihilated  until  African  soil  was 
literally  stained  with  blood.  Captives  thus  taken,  con- 
sisting of  men,  women,  and  children,  were  hurried  to  the 
coast,  gathered,  assorted,  and  sold  by  the  cargo.  In  all 
human  history  there  is  but  one  bloodier  picture  than  that 
which  describes  the  horrors  of  the  Middle  Passage. 

This  term  may  need  a  word  of  explanation.  Whether 
they  sailed  from  England  or  America,  slave  vessels  made 
their  first  voyage  to  the  African  coast  to  secure  their 
cargoes.  When  freighted  with  slaves  the  voyage  to  the 
place  of  sale  was  termed  the  middle  passage,  the  third 
being  the  return  to  the  home  port. 

171 


African 


Of  the  horrors  of  that  middle  passage  no  adequate 
description  can  be  given.  Able  writers  have  essayed  the 
task,  only  to  find  themselves  unequal  to  it.  So  far  as  its 
history  has  been  written,  every  line  seems  written  in  blood 
and  every  page  crimson  with  crime.  The  insatiable  thirst 
for  gold  seemed  to  blot  out  the  last  vestige  of  human 
sympathy  and  render  men  veritable  devils  incarnate. 
Such  were  the  profits  derived  from  the  trade  that,  if  half  the 
cargo  died  on  the  way,  the  surviving  ones  would  yet  yield 
a  handsome  income.  If  slaves  could  be  bought  in  Africa  at 
fifteen  dollars  each,  and  sold  in  the  Indies  or  the  American 
colonies  for  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  two  hundred  dol- 
lars each,  a  prosperous  voyage  brought  quick  returns,  no 
matter  what  their  condition,  nor  how  many  died  on  the  way. 
A  few  words  as  to  the  condition  of  slaves  on  shipboard  must 
suffice.  If  the  slaver  was  successful  in  securing  a  cargo, 
the  capacity  of  the  ship  was  taxed  to  the  utmost,  the 
number  varying  from  three  hundred  to  one  thousand, 
according  to  the  size  of  the  ship  and  the  success  in  gather- 
ing the  shipload.  The  men  were  handcuffed,  two  and  two, 
and  then  ankle-chained  to  long  iron  rods,  from  which  there 
was  no  possibility  of  escape.  Temporary  shelves  were  also 
constructed  between  decks,  and  every  possible  space  in 
the  hold  was  utilized.  The  average  space  allowed  for 
each  slave  was  eighteen  inches  abreast,  four  and  a  half 
feet  in  length,  with  three  feet  of  breathing  space  above. 
Sometimes  vessels  were  becalmed,  and  when  food  and  water 
gave  out,  a  portion  of  the  living  were  thrown  overboard 
with  the  dead,  that  the  surviving  ones  might  yet  be  sold 
and  thus,  so  far  as  they  might,  diminish  the  loss. 

172 


Duniaii 


These  horrors  were  still  more  intensified  when  pestilence 
was  bred  in  the  vessel  and  the  ship's  crew  were  so  swept 
away  that  not  enough  remained  to  bring  the  vessel  into 
port.  It  is  reported  that  the  odor  from  these  floating 
charnel  houses  could  be  detected  for  miles  at  sea.  Human 
sympathy  and  pecuniary  gain  alike  should  have  prompted 
a  treatment  more  humane,  but  to  those  claims  ignorance 
and  avarice  were  blind.  The  sufferings  of  those  poor 
heathen,  torn  from  their  homes  and  their  children,  doomed 
to  perpetual  slavery,  can  never  be  told;  and  yet  some 
pious  souls  there  were  who  sanctioned  the  traffic,  since 
these  benighted  heathen  might  thus  be  brought  into  the 
pale  of  civilization  and  Christianized. 

But  at  length  the  cup  of  their  suffering  was  nearing  the 
brim,  and  the  day  of  their  deliverance  drew  nigh.  His  eye 
that  never  slumbers  and  His  ear  that  is  never  deaf  saw 
their  sufferings  and  heard  their  piteous  prayer.  The 
day  of  their  deliverance,  both  in  England  and  this  country, 
falls  within  the  period  of  my  remembrance,  and  this  fact 
has  prompted  the  penning  of  these  chapters.  At  last  the 
command  "Let  my  people  go"  sank  deeply  into  the 
hearts  of  men,  and  by  men,  as  the  instruments  of  God,  His 
purpose  was  fulfilled. 

England,  which  had  been  most  responsible  for  the  wrong, 
was  first  to  hear  the  mandate.  After  a  struggle  which 
lasted  over  thirty  years,  the  moral  sense  of  her  people 
triumphed  over  every  pecuniary  obstacle,  and  every  slave 
in  the  British  empire  went  free. 

The  history  of  British  emancipation  is  so  replete  with 
interest  as  to  warrant  a  separate  chapter. 

173 


CHAPTER  XXVII 
BRITISH   EMANCIPATION 

THE  struggle  which  went  on  in  England  for  over  thirty 
years,  and  which  eventuated  in  the  abolition  of 
slavery  in  all  the  British  Empire,  represents  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  triumphs  of  moral  principle  that  the  world  has 
ever  known.  It  easily  ranks  next  to  that  of  the  triumph  of 
Christianity  in  its  inherent  power  to  move  the  hearts  of 
men  and  bear  them  on  to  victory.  The  opening  paragraph 
of  our  own  Declaration  of  Independence  was  no  idle  asser- 
tion —  that  men  have  certain  inalienable  rights,  for  those 
rights  our  colonies  had  fought  and  won.  During  all  the 
years  of  that  eventful  war,  deep  down  in  the  hearts  of 
Englishmen  there  dwelt  a  consciousness  that  our  cause 
was  just,  and  in  the  year  1787,  the  very  year  in  which 
our  people  were  forging  that  wonderful  instrument,  "The 
American  Constitution,"  there  began  that  great  move- 
ment in  England  which  resulted  in  the  emancipation  of 
slaves  throughout  the  British  Empire. 

Volumes  have  been  written  descriptive  of  the  inception, 
development,  and  conclusion  of  that  gigantic  struggle,  and 
at  most  I  only  propose  to  touch  upon  a  few  of  the  most 
salient  points  in  its  history. 

The  enormities  of  the  slave  trade,  though  they  had  been 
steadily  increasing  for  more  than  a  hundred  years,  had  thus 
far  failed  to  arouse  the  public  conscience;  partly  through 
ignorance,  and  partly  through  indifference,  that  conscience 

174 


Emancipation 


had  slumbered  on.  It  was  not  until  the  iniquity  of  the 
trade  had  reached  its  utmost  limit  and  the  cup  of  sorrow 
had  been  filled  to  its  brim,  that  the  hand  of  the  oppressor 
was  stayed  and  the  captive  set  free  —  and  by  Him  who 
rules  the  destinies  of  men,  it  was  ordered  that,  as  man  had 
been  enslaved  by  man,  so  by  man  should  he  be  set  free, 
and  not  by  miraculous  interference. 

Momentous  events  in  the  world 's  history  have  often  had 
their  inception  in  very  limited  and  even  obscure  beginnings, 
a  fact  well  illustrated  in  the  commencement  of  the  great 
abolition  movement.  And  let  it  ever  be  remembered  to  the 
honor  of  her  sex  that  it  was  a  woman  who  fired  the  train 
which  was  to  convulse  the  whole  British  Empire  and  bring 
to  a  finish  the  work  of  emancipation. 

The  beginnings  of  that  movement  are  of  such  interest  as 
to  warrant  me  in  referring  to  them  somewhat  minutely. 

The  first  case  that  I  find  on  record  is  that  of  a  slave  who 
was  liberated  in  the  English  court  by  a  technicality,  and 
not  on  the  ground  of  his  inherent  right  to  freedom.  The 
case  was  this:  A  slave  named  Strong  had  been  brought  to 
England  by  a  Barbadoes  planter.  Strong  ran  away  from 
his  master,  was  recaptured  and  sold  to  one  John  Kerr  and 
placed  on  shipboard  to  be  sold  in  Jamaica.  A  kind-hearted 
brother  of  Granville  Sharp  became  aware  of  the  facts  and 
was  deeply  interested  in  the  man.  Through  his  influence, 
Granville  Sharp,  one  of  the  most  noted  advocates  at  the 
English  bar,  took  up  the  case  and,  by  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus, 
the  slave  was  brought  into  Court  and  was  liberated  on  the 
ground  that  he  had  been  kidnaped,  and  therefore  could 
not  be  legally  held. 

175 


African 


But  there  was  soon  to  follow  another,  in  which  the 
question  of  slavery  in  England  was  to  be  settled  for  all 
time  to  come.  It  became  widely  known  as  the  celebrat- 
ed "Somerset  Case."  Its  history  briefly  is  this:  In 
November,  1769,  Charles  Stewart,  a  Virginia  planter, 
brought  a  slave  to  England  named  James  Somerset.  As 
in  the  case  previously  cited,  Somerset  also  ran  away;  he  was 
captured  and  placed  on  shipboard  to  be  sold  in  Jamaica. 
Here  again  Granville  Sharp  appeared  as  counsel  for  the 
slave.  This  time  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus  brought  the  slave 
into  the  presence  of  Lord  Chief  Justice  Mansfield,  and  his 
enslavement  or  his  freedom  was  not  to  be  determined  by  a 
technicality.  The  influence  of  that  decision  was  to  be  far- 
reaching  for  while  it  only  pronounced  the  rights  of  slaves 
in  England,  the  principle  would  be  world- wide  in  its  applica- 
tion. At  that  time  the  hindrances  to  the  liberation  of 
slaves  seemed  almost  insurmountable.  The  sympathies 
of  the  masses  were  but  little  aroused  for  that  portion  of 
the  race  of  which  they  had  little  knowledge.  Again,  the 
prejudice  against  the  African  as  a  sort  of  human  being  upon 
whom,  somehow,  the  curse  of  Cain  rested,  was  well-nigh  uni- 
versal. But  a  far  more  powerful  influence  than  ignorance 
or  racial  prejudice  was  that  of  commercial  gain.  In  time 
the  slave  trade  had  become  almost  inseparably  related 
to  nearly  all  the  business  interests  of  the  world.  Govern- 
ment revenue  —  the  profit  in  slaves  —  the  agricultural 
demands  for  slave  labor  and  all  the  varied  interests  that 
derived  profit  from  its  continuance,  conspired  to  prevent 
the  least  interference  with  that  traffic.  And  there  before 
that  court,  single-handed  and  alone,  stood  Granville  Sharp 

176 


Emancipation 


and  his  poor  slave  representing  in  his  person  the  rights 
of  a  man. 

Opposed  to  him  were  the  ablest  barristers  that  the  wealth 
of  England  could  procure,  strongly  buttressed  by  the  strong 
prejudice  of  an  ignorant  public  sentiment.  At  length  the 
last  argument  for  the  rendition  of  the  slave  had  been  made, 
and  the  hour  for  Granville  Sharp  had  come.  He  had  right- 
ly measured  the  magnitude  of  the  issue,  and  he  was  equal  to 
that  hour.  When  he  came  to  plead  for  the  rights  of  a  man, 
rights  so  dear  to  every  English  heart,  his  words  were  sharper 
than  any  two-edged  sword,  and  when  his  peroration  culmi- 
nated in  the  question:  "Shall  right  prevail  in  England?" 
it  struck  a  thousand  responsive  chords  in  British  breasts, 
which  later  were  to  espouse  his  cause.  The  case  was  not 
to  be  decided  in  an  hour.  From  January  until  June,  1772, 
it  was  under  advisement,  and  what  a  waiting  there  was  for 
that  decision.  Justice  was  listening;  the  dealers  and  the 
planters  were  listening ;  all  moneyed  interests  were  listen- 
ing; not  only  Granville  Sharp,  but  the  friends  of  the 
slave  both  in  England  and  America,  were  listening  also. 
At  length  the  decision  was  handed  down.  The  terse,  calm, 
but  forceful  utterances  of  Justice  Mansfield  were  such  as  to 
place  his  name  among  the  ever  memorable  blessed.  I  can 
only  quote  the  closing  sentences,  in  which  he  says: 

"The  power  claimed  in  this  return  was  never  in  use  here. 
We  cannot  say  the  cause  set  forth  by  this  return  is  allowed 
or  approved  of  by  the  laws  of  this  Kingdom,  and  therefore 
the  man  must  be  discharged."  The  final  fruitage  of  that 
decision  was  to  be  the  abolition  of  slavery  both  in  Europe 
and  America.  How  it  was  to  be  accomplished  no  mortal 

177 


African 


could  yet  forecast.  It  is  now  one  hundred  and  thirty-eight 
years  since  that  decision  was  made.  The  deed  has  been 
accomplished,  and  that  through  human  agency,  controlled 
by  an  overruling  Providence.  England  wisely  gave  to  the 
question  a  peaceful  solution.  The  United  States  did  other- 
wise, and  the  retribution  that  followed  was  commensurate 
with  their  guilt.  In  England  the  appeal  to  the  moral  sense 
was  not  in  vain.  Slowly  but  surely  the  public  conscience 
was  aroused  and  awakened  to  the  enormity  of  the  crime, 
but  it  took  fifteen  years  for  convictions  to  culminate  in 
action.  The  inception  of  that  action  was  as  follows: 

During  the  period  intervening  between  1772  and  1779, 
Sir  Charles  Middleton,  in  command  of  a  British  man-of- 
war,  was  stationed  in  the  West  Indies.  He  had  aboard 
a  surgeon  named  Ramsey.  Dr.  Ramsey  married  a  lady 
at  St.  Kitts,  and  settled  on  that  island.  While  there 
he  concluded  to  take  orders  and  enter  the  service  of  the 
Church.  He  went  to  England,  took  orders,  and  became 
a  clergyman.  Returning  to  St.  Kitts,  he  saw  a  great  deal 
of  the  manner  in  which  negroes  were  treated,  and  felt  the 
greatest  pity  for  them.  Having  become  acquainted  with 
the  horrors  of  the  trade  by  which  they  were  obtained,  he 
was  still  more  shocked  by  the  indignities  and  cruelties  to 
which  these  poor  creatures  were  subjected  on  their  passage 
from  Africa  to  the  islands,  and  by  the  brutal  manner  in 
which,  like  cattle,  they  were  bought  and  sold,  and  by  the 
severities  of  the  servitude  to  which  they  were  subjected. 

Later  he  returned  to  England  and  settled  at  Maidstone, 
near  Kent.  His  special  patroness  was  Lady  Bouviere,  a 
friend  of  Lady  Middleton,  and  the  wife  of  Sir  Charles 

178 


Emancipation 


Middle  ton,  to  whom  we  have  referred  as  commander  in  the 
British  Navy,  but  who  was  now  a  member  of  the  House  of 
Commons  and  represented  the  important  Borough  of 
Rochester.  Lady  Middleton  was  a  lady  of  exceptional 
ability  and  of  indefatigable  energy.  As  she  listened  to  the 
recitals  of  the  knowledge  and  personal  experiences  of  Dr. 
Ramsey,  her  heart  was  so  stirred  within  her  that  she  could 
not  rest,  and  she  went  at  once  to  her  husband  and  said: 
"Sir  Charles,  I  think  you  ought  to  bring  this  subject  before 
the  House,  and  demand  parliamentary  investigation  into 
the  nature  of  the  traffic  so  disgraceful  to  the  British  char- 
acter." Sir  Charles  at  once  admitted  the  justice  of  her 
proposal,  but,  as  he  had  never  made  a  speech  in  Parliament, 
he  stated  that  she  would  be  committing  it  to  bad  hands, 
but  that  he  would  strenuously  support  any  able  member 
who  would  undertake  it. 

She  then  wrote  an  urgent  letter  to  Dr.  Ramsey,  urging 
him  to  publish  for  the  English  people  the  facts  as  he  had 
known  them  with  reference  to  the  African  slave  trade  and 
the  treatment  of  slaves  in  the  West  Indies.  In  compliance 
with  this  request,  Dr.  Ramsey  issued  an  essay,  "On  the 
Treatment  of,  and  Traffic  in,  Slaves."  The  book  produced 
a  profound  impression  and  raised  a  storm  of  indignation. 
It  was  published  in  1787,  and  for  two  years  the  author 
stood  for  its  defense,  breasting  the  most  violent  opposition, 
until,  borne  down  by  overexertion,  he  died  in  1789. 

In  that  memorable  year,  1787,  the  question  was  being 
canvassed  as  to  the  member  best  able  to  champion  the 
petition  to  be  presented  to  Parliament.  Casually  the  name 
of  Wilberforce  was  mentioned.  Though  yet  a  young  man, 

179 


African 


he  had  been  triumphantly  elected  from  York,  the  strongest 
borough  in  the  kingdom,  and  had  already  displayed  superior 
talent  and  great  eloquence  in  the  House  of  Commons. 
Lady  Middleton  at  once  implored  her  husband  to  write  to 
Mr.  Wilberforce  and  urge  him  to  present  the  petition  to 
the  House.  Mr.  Wilberforce  did  not  deny  the  request 
but  promised  to  take  the  question  under  advisement.  As 
we  proceed  we  shall  discover  how,  by  previous  interest  in 
the  slave  question,  by  his  rare  talent  and  his  commanding 
position,  he  proved  above  all  others  the  one  needed  to  lead 
in  the  coming  struggle.  That  the  miseries  of  Africa  had 
long  attracted  his  attention  is  evident  from  an  extract  from 
his  journal,  in  which,  in  his  early  boyhood,  he  says:  "It  is 
somewhat  worthy  of  attention  as  indicative  of  the  provi- 
dential impulse  by  which  we  are  led  in  particular  lines  of 
conduct,  that  as  early  as  the  year  1780,  I  had  been  thor- 
oughly interested  in  the  condition  of  the  West  India  slaves. 
And  in  a  letter  asking  my  friend  Gordon,  then  going  to 
Antigua,  to  collect  information  for  me,  I  expressed  then  my 
determination,  at  least  my  hope,  that  some  day  or  other  I 
should  redress  the  wrongs  of  those  degraded  beings."  All 
along  his  younger  years  the  subject  had  been  much  upon 
his  mind.  And  here,  I  think,  we  may  note  another  marked 
instance  where  a  man  is  specially  raised  up  under  Divine 
Providence  for  the  fulfilment  of  His  purposes. 

Mr.  Wilberforce  was  now  to  enter  upon  the  great  work  of 
his  life  and,  after  a  struggle  of  more  than  thirty  years,  was 
permitted  to  witness  its  final  triumph.  As  he  began  this 
work,  his  previous  interest  in  the  slaves  and  his  knowledge  of 
their  conditions  were  to  be  turned  to  practical  account.  At 

180 


^Emancipation 


this  date,  1 7  8  7 ,  he  writes :  "It  was  the  condition  of  the  West 
India  slaves  which  first  drew  my  attention,  and  it  was  in  the 
course  of  my  inquiries  that  I  was  led  to  Africa  and  aboli- 
tion." He  further  states:  "God  has  set  before  me  two 
great  objects  —  the  suppression  of  the  slave  trade  and  the 
reformation  of  manners." 

Not  Middleton  's  alone,  but  many  noble  hearts  in  England 
were  being  moved  as  by  a  common  impulse.  The  famous 
decision  of  Lord  Mansfield,  five  years  before,  and  the  later 
triumphs  of  Granville  Sharp  worked  like  leaven  and  ac- 
complished a  wonderful  result.  The  records  show  that  for 
months  a  number  of  prominent  men  in  private  lif e,  in  confi- 
dence, had  been  exchanging  views  upon  this  subject.  As 
a  result  of  these  private  conferences  they  determined  to 
take  immediate  action,  and  form  themselves  into  a  commit- 
tee to  raise  funds  and  collect  information  necessary  for 
procuring  the  abolition  of  the  slave  trade. 

Their  first  meeting  was  held  May  22,  1787.  Twelve 
persons  were  present,  mostly  London  merchants,  and  all 
but  two  of  them  Quakers.  At  this  meeting,  Granville 
Sharp  was  made  chairman,  and  this,  I  think,  was  the  first 
anti-slavery  organization  in  England.  It  grew  rapidly  in 
numbers  and  in  influence,  and  in  the  coming  struggle  be- 
came a  most  efficient  power. 

For  the  time,  it  was  not  deemed  wise  that  Mr.  Wilber- 
force  should  be  publicly  identified  with  the  organization, 
although  from  the  first  his  was  the  guiding  hand  in  all  its 
movements.  From  every  available  source,  Mr.  Wilber- 
force  had  been  indefatigable  in  his  efforts  to  obtain  exact 
data,  to  fortify  any  statements  he  might  make  with  evi- 

181 


African 


dence  that  could  not  be  questioned.  He  had  prepared  a 
motion  to  be  presented  to  the  House  for  the  appointment 
of  a  committee  to  consider  the  conditions  of  the  slave  trade, 
the  discussion  of  which  should  be  fixed  for  some  later  date. 
Just  then  he  was  smitten  down  with  a  severe  illness,  and 
for  a  time  it  seemed  a  serious  question  as  to  his  recovery. 
His  overardent  abolition  friends  were  impatient  of  delay, 
and  he  himself  saw  the  necessity  of  heeding  that  impatience. 
William  Pitt,  the  leader  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and 
deemed  the  ablest  debater  in  that  body,  was  not  only  a  close 
friend  of  Wilberforce  but,  like  him,  an  ardent  abolitionist. 
At  the  earnest  request  of  Mr.  Wilberforce,  Pitt  consented  to 
introduce  the  motion,  which  was  to  be  again  and  again  re- 
peated until,  finally,  slavery  was  overthrown.  It  is  worthy  of 
remark  that,  though  the  great  majority  of  the  House  was 
opposed  to  its  introduction,  and  thus  becoming  a  national 
issue,  four  of  the  ablest  men  on  that  floor  were  strongly 
committed  to  the  abolition  question.  Their  names  were 
William  Pitt,  Edmund  Burke,  Charles  Fox,  and  William 
Wilberforce. 

To  show  the  strength  of  Mr.  Wilberforce  and  the  manner 
in  which  he  was  regarded  by  the  organized  Society,  when 
quite  a  formidable  movement  was  made  by  those  who  de- 
spaired of  his  recovery  or  of  his  future  ability  to  lead  the 
movement  in  the  House,  and  suggested  that  his  successor 
be  appointed,  the  reply  of  the  Society  was  that  if,  at  last, 
Mr.  Wilberforce  should  be  unable  to  resume  his  post,  they 
would  leave  to  him  the  naming  of  his  successor.  At  the 
same  time  they  wrote  to  him  for  his  advice  in  the  emergency. 

The  session  of  the  House  was  now  far  spent,  and  it  was 

182 


Emancipation 


deemed  advisable  to  postpone  the  discussion  of  Mr.  Pitt's 
motion  until  another  session.  In  the  meantime,  a  number 
of  Mr.  Wilberf orce  's  friends,  under  the  leadership  of  Dr. 
William  Dalson,  determined  to  inspect  the  condition  of  the 
slave-ships  and  see  for  themselves  what  those  conditions 
were.  It  had  been  stoutly  asserted  that  self-interest  on 
the  part  of  the  owners  would  prompt  them  to  provide 
comfortable  quarters  and  proper  care  for  the  slaves  while 
making  the  middle  passage.  On  the  contrary,  these  in- 
vestigators found  that  slaves  were  crowded  into  spaces  so 
exceedingly  small  as  to  aggravate  their  sufferings,  and 
cause,  from  the  spread  of  infectious  diseases,  a  prodigious 
mortality.  At  once  it  was  determined  that  such  enormities 
should  not  go  unheeded  and  that  a  bill  should  be  intro- 
duced during  the  present  session,  limiting  the  number  of 
slaves  to  be  carried  in  accordance  with  the  capacity  of  the 
ship,  and  providing  certain  precautions  against  their  suffer- 
ings. The  bill  encountered  fierce  opposition  on  the  part 
of  the  slave  merchants  and  those  who  were  reaping  profits 
from  the  trade.  It  resulted  not  only  in  bringing  these 
conditions  to  the  knowledge  of  Parliament,  but  also  to  the 
English  people  generally.  The  immediate  effect  wh  ch 
this  report  produced  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  the  bill, 
introduced  May  i4th,  passed  the  house  on  June  loth,  was 
carried  in  the  House  of  Lords  on  July  nth,  and  on  the  fol- 
lowing day  received  the  royal  signature.  True,  the  bill 
for  the  abolition  of  slavery  was  to  slumber  for  another 
year,  but  the  pronouncement  against  such  inhuman  treat- 
ment of  slaves  was  preparing  the  way  for  that  dis- 
cussion. 

183 


African 


During  the  latter  part  of  that  year,  Mr.  Wilberforce  was 
slowly  regaining  his  health  and  collecting  by  every  possible 
means  unquestionable  evidence  for  the  truth  of  the  asser- 
tions he  was  preparing  to  make  when  the  motion  was  called 
up.  Months  were  spent  in  the  collection,  and  he  availed 
himself  of  much  associate  help  in  maturing  the  work. 
Every  objection  of  his  opponents  was  studiously  antici- 
pated and  as  fully  as  they  could  be  formulated  he  was 
prepared  to  answer  them.  He  firmly  believed  that  Provi- 
dence was  on  the  side  of  those  who  carried  the  heaviest 
guns  and  a  full  supply  of  ammunition.  It  was  known  for 
months,  that  in  the  discussion  of  that  question,  he  was  to 
encounter  the  most  ferocious  opposition  which  the  allies 
of  the  slave  trade  could  command,  and  one  of  his 
stanchest  supporters  wrote  to  him  jocosely  as  follows:  "I 
shall  expect  to  read  in  the  newspapers  of  your  being 
carbonized  by  the  West  India  planters,  barbecued  by 
African  merchants,  and  eaten  by  Guinea  merchants,  but 
be  not  daunted,  for  I  shall  write  your  epitaph." 

At  length,  on  the  i2th  of  May,  1789,  the  question  was 
brought  before  the  House,  and  we  must  remember  that  his 
auditors  were  the  leading  men  of  the  nation.  The  manner 
in  which,  in  his  journal,  he  makes  mention  of  his  effort  well 
indicates  the  modesty  of  the  man.  He  writes:  "When 
I  came  to  town  I  was  sadly  unfit  for  work,  but  by  the  help 
of  Divine  Grace  I  was  able  to  make  my  motion  so  as  to  give 
satisfaction  in  three  hours  and  a  half.  I  had  not  prepared 
my  language  or  gone  over  all  my  matter,  but  being  well 
acquainted  with  the  whole  subject,  I  got  on."  His  speech 
was  a  masterful  one,  and  his  shafts  pierced  the  vitals  of  the 

184 


Emancipation 


slave  trade  with  wounds  that  were  never  to  be  healed.  As 
to  its  effect  upon  the  House,  a  few  quotations  will  suffice. 
While  still  under  its  influence,  Mr.  Burke  said:  "The 
House,  the  nation  and  Europe  are  under  great  obligation 
to  the  gentleman  for  having  brought  forward  the  subject  in 
a  manner  the  most  masterly,  impressively  and  eloquently." 
Mr.  Fox  said  the  principles  were  so  well  laid  down  and 
supported  by  such  force  and  order  that  it  equaled  anything 
he  had  heard  in  modern  times,  and  was  not  to  be  surpassed, 
perhaps,  in  the  remains  of  Grecian  eloquence.  Mr.  Pitt 
was  equally  enthusiastic.  Bishop  Porteous,  then  Bishop  of 
London,  who  heard  the  speech,  wrote  on  the  following  day 
to  Reverend  Mr.  Mason  as  follows:  "It  was  with  heart- 
felt satisfaction  that  Mr.  Wilberforce  yesterday  opened 
the  important  subject  of  the  slave  practice  in  the  House  of 
Commons,  in  one  of  the  ablest  and  most  eloquent  speeches 
that  was  ever  heard  in  that  or  any  other  place.  It  con- 
tinued upwards  of  three  hours,  and  made  a  sensible  and 
powerful  impression  upon  the  House.  Mr.  Pitt,  Mr.  Burke, 
Mr.  Fox,  and  all  agreed  in  declaring  that  the  slave  trade 
was  the  disgrace  and  opprobrium  of  the  whole  country,  and 
that  nothing  but  abolition  could  cure  so  monstrous  an  evil. 
It  was  a  glorious  night  for  the  country.  I  was  in  the  House 
from  five  until  eleven  o'clock."  Wilberforce's  facetious 
friend,  Mr.  Gisborne,  who  had  promised  to  write  his  epitaph, 
wrote:  "I  congratulate  you,  not  only  on  account  of  your 
speech,  but  for  the  effect  it  has  produced  and  the  manner  in 
which  it  is  supported  by  others,  even  by  the  inconsistent 
and  incomprehensible  Burke.  Lord  Erskine  wrote:  "I 
congratulate  you  sincerely  on  the  auspicious  appearances 

185 


African  Jrtatoerp 


which  have  followed  from  the  exercise  of  very  great  talent 
in  a  very  great  cause."  These,  from  many  similar  expres- 
sions, must  suffice.  The  opposition  succeeded  in  producing 
witnesses  to  challenge  the  truth  of  his  assertions,  and  a 
heated  debate  went  on  until  the  23rd  of  June,  when  the 
question  was  laid  over  until  the  next  session. 

In  the  meantime,  the  Middle  Passage  Bill  was  re-enacted 
by  a  very  large  majority.  The  House  was  willing  to  mitigate 
the  miseries  of  slaves  on  shipboard,  but  not  to  abolish  the 
trade.  From  this  time  on,  the  opposition  adopted  the  tac- 
tics of  delay  and  sought  by  every  means  to  controvert  the 
statements  of  the  advocates  of  abolition,  bringing  all  man- 
ner of  witnesses  to  their  help.  Thus  the  discussions  went 
on,  in  the  successive  sessions  of  1789,  1790,  and  1791.  The 
tendency  of  the  nation  was  to  political  repose,  and  more  and 
more  to  repress  the  cause  of  abolition;  and,  though  there  were 
few  able  defenders  of  the  trade  on  the  floor,  there  was  a 
silent  vote  which  told  heavily  against  it,  so  that  in  1791, 
when  the  question  came  to  vote,  it  stood  88  for  and  163 
against  it.  (Mr.  Wilberforce  's  motion.) 

Though  it  was  useless  to  seek  to  effect  a  change  in  the 
House,  it  was  evident  that  the  appeal  must  now  be  made  to 
their  constituents.  During  these  years  Mr.  Wilberforce 
and  his  friends  had  been  busy  in  preparing  literature  to  be 
circulated  among  the  people.  Among  the  many  documents 
prepared  was  one  containing  the  evidence,  and  another, 
the  discussions  in  the  House.  Mr.  Wilberforce  prepared 
an  abundance  of  literature,  conducted  correspondence  far 
and  wide,  and,  being  the  possessor  of  wealth,  was  able  to 
disseminate  his  views  over  the  entire  country.  Mr.  Clark- 

186 


^Emancipation 


son  and  Mr.  Dickson  were  employed  as  agents  to  spread 
abroad  this  literature  in  all  the  provincial  towns.  Although 
Mr.  Clarkson  thus  simply  acted  as  an  agent,  he  afterwards 
wrote  a  book  upon  the  History  of  Emancipation,  in  which 
he  claimed  to  have  been  the  leader  in  the  great  work.  He 
was  employed  to  make  addresses,  but  he  never  made  one 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  or  acted  otherwise  than  as  an 
employed  agent.  The  appeal  was  to  the  moral  sense  of 
the  English  people.  Both  in  England  and  in  Scotland  its 
influence  began  to  be  felt  very  largely.  County  mass 
meetings  were  held  and  master  petitions  from  all  over  the 
country  went  up  to  the  House  of  Commons,  and,  be  it  said 
to  their  credit,  the  clergy  were  in  favor  of  it  to  a  man.  In 
1792,  the  House  put  itself  on  record  as  favoring  gradual 
emancipation,  without  fixing  the  date,  by  a  vote  of  283  to 
85.  The  abolition  promoters  were  congratulated  on  every 
hand  and  yet,  says  Mr.  Wilberforce :  "I  am  humiliated,  for 
I  never  will  bring  forward  a  Parliamentary  license  to  rob 
and  murder,  and  we  must  force  the  gradual  abolitionists 
to  allow  as  short  a  time  as  possible." 

On  the  23rd  of  April,  1792,  Mr.  Dundas  brought  forward 
a  bill  for  gradual  emancipation  to  go  into  effect  January 
i,  1795,  which  was  defeated  by  a  vote  of  181  to  125,  but 
nothing  daunted  another  vote  was  taken,  making  the  date 
January  i,  1796,  which  was  carried  by  a  vote  of  157  to  132. 
By  this  vote  the  House  placed  itself  on  record  as  favoring 
General  Emancipation  in  1796,  and  its  friends  were  earnest 
in  their  congratulations.  Still  an  appeal  was  taken  from 
the  vote,  and  the  debate  went  over  to  another  session. 

To  appreciate  the  struggle  in  its  behalf  and  the  opposi- 

187 


African 


tion  which  it  encountered,  it  is  well  to  note  the  action  taken 
by  the  House  during  the  successive  years.  In  the  year 
1793,  the  bill  was  carried  in  the  house  but  was  lost  in  the 
House  of  Lords.  For  five  following  years  it  was  introduced 
each  year,  and  each  year  defeated.  For  three  years  more, 
from  1800  to  1804,  final  action  was  deferred  until  the  next 
yearly  session.  But,  during  all  this  time,  the  friends  of  the 
cause  remained  undaunted,  and  were  successfully  educating 
the  people  as  to  the  extent  and  turpitude  of  the  crime.  In 
1804  there  seemed  to  be  a  tidal  wave  in  their  favor,  and  the 
most  sanguine  were  surprised  at  their  own  success  when,  by 
the  aid  of  the  Irish  members,  the  vote  was  carried  in  the 
House  by  124  to  49,  but  lost  in  the  House  of  Lords.  A 
year  later  the  vote  in  the  house  stood  99  to  33,  but  was 
again  defeated  in  the  House  of  Lords. 

Now,  for  a  time,  the  further  progress  of  the  work  was 
seriously  retarded,  for  Napoleon  appeared  on  the  scene, 
and  all  Europe,  for  the  succeeding  years,  was  in  most  anxious 
suspense.  It  seems  necessary  to  refer  briefly  to  his  career 
so  far  as  it  affects  the  progress  of  emancipation. 

In  1799,  Napoleon  had  become  first  Consul  of  France, 
and  at  once  assumed  the  role  of  dictator.  His  ambition 
was  to  glorify  France,  that  France  might  glorify  him.  In 
the  fulfilment  of  that  purpose  England  was  his  most  bitter 
rival,  and  England  must  be  humiliated.  The  English 
people  knew  full  well  the  situation.  They  knew  that  across 
the  narrow  channel  were  two  hundred  thousand  enthusiastic 
soldiers,  eager  to  obey  his  command  if  Napoleon  should 
seek  to  plant  his  legions  on  British  soil.  At  once  the  ut- 


188 


Emancipation 


most  efforts  were  put  forth  for  its  defense,  and  at  this  critical 
period  there  was  no  room  for  minor  questions.  As  yet  the 
real  purpose  of  Napoleon  had  not  been  revealed,  which  was 
to  extend  his  conquests  far  and  wide  upon  the  continent,  and 
then,  by  the  accumulated  strength  of  conquered  provinces 
and  the  eclat  of  repeated  victories,  crush  England  by  sheer 
force,  or  compel  her  to  surrender  by  cutting  off  her  supplies. 
First  came  the  subjugation  of  Austria,  then  the  Germanic 
provinces,  and,  later,  Italy  and  Spain.  These  were  to  be 
but  preliminary  movements  for  the  subjugation  of  England 
and  the  establishment  of  a  dominating  French  Empire,  over 
which  he  should  be  the  ruling  monarch.  The  British  at 
the  outset  failed  to  divine  his  vast  project  and,  laboring 
under  the  impression  that  they  were  to  be  the  immediate 
subjects  of  his  attack,  put  forth  every  possible  effort  to  resist 
invasion. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  further  divert  to  a  history  of 
that  struggle  more  than  to  state  that,  while  England 
was  thus  agitated  to  her  utmost,  the  cause  of  emancipation 
had  taken  such  firm  rooting  in  English  minds  that  the 
cause  was  steadily  advancing,  and  that,  while  there  was  in- 
tense loyalty  to  the  Government,  there  was  a  constantly 
growing  sympathy  for  the  slave.  The  later  elections  gave 
evidence  in  the  changed  complexion  of  the  House  on  the 
slave  question.  When,  in  1806,  a  resolution  was  offered  in 
the  House  of  Commons  declaring  the  slave  trade  to  be  con- 
trary to  the  principles  of  justice,  humanity,  and  sound 
policy,  and  that  the  House  proceed  with  all  practicable 
expediency  to  abolish  it,  the  vote  stood  100  to  14.  Such 


189 


African 


an  expression  could  not  be  ignored  by  King  George,  or  by 
the  House  of  Lords.  The  crisis  in  the  House  of  Lords 
came  a  year  later  when,  on  January  28th,  the  vote  for  the 
abolition  of  slavery  passed  that  body  by  a  vote  of  100  to 
32.  On  the  22nd  of  February  following,  the  question  of 
the  abolition  of  slavery  came  up  in  the  House  of  Commons 
for  the  last  time.  With  the  large  accession  of  new  members, 
the  enthusiasm  engendered  in  the  debate  was  beyond  all 
precedent,  and  when,  in  connection  with  the  struggle  which 
had  continued  for  thirty  years,  the  name  of  Wilberforce 
was  mentioned,  the  house  broke  forth  hi  a  tumultuous  cheer, 
a  thing  unknown  in  that  august  body.  Now  came  the  last 
final  vote,  which  stood  283  to  16.  On  the  26th  of  March, 
1807,  the  bill  for  the  abolition  of  the  African  slave  trade 
received  the  royal  signature. 

But,  while  England  had  declared  the  slave  trade  piracy, 
she  had  yet  to  deal  with  the  slaves  held  in  her  own  colonies, 
and  it  was  not  until  1833  that  the  supreme  hour  came,  and 
she  voted  a  tax  of  one  hundred  millions  of  dollars  as  com- 
pensation to  be  paid  to  their  owners  for  the  liberation  of 
one  million  slaves.  For  thirty  years  she  had  expended  a 
million  dollars  annually  to  maintain  her  African  squadron 
for  the  suppression  of  the  trade,  and  it  would  seem  that  her 
zealous  search  of  slavers  carrying  the  American  flag,  quite 
as  much  as  the  alleged  seizure  of  American  seamen,  brought 
on  the  War  of  1812. 

While  England  had  been  most  responsible  for  the  develop- 
ment of  the  slave  trade,  to  her  honor  be  it  said  she  was  fore- 
most in  its  abolition,  and,  finally,  in  freeing  every  slave  be- 
neath the  British  flag.  That  was  a  glad  day  for  the  colored 

190 


Emancipation 


race  when,  on  August  i,  1834,  every  slave  on  British  soil 
became  a  freeman.  So  recently  did  this  emancipation  occur 
as  to  fall  well  within  my  own  remembrance,  for  I  was  then 
ten  years  old.  The  United  States  refused  to  profit  by  this 
noble  example,  and  was  destined  later  to  reap  the  terrible 
fruits  of  her  refusal. 


191 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
SLAVERY  IN  THE   UNITED   STATES 

WHILE  it  is  my  purpose  to  write  of  African  slavery 
as  it  has  existed  in  the  United  States  during  the 
period  of  my  remembrance,  it  seems  essential  to  make  brief 
reference  to  its  earlier  history.  At  the  time  of  its  introduc- 
tion, our  Colonies  were  subjects  of  Great  Britain  and  the 
traffic  in  African  slaves  was  universally  considered  legiti- 
mate. We  have  to  remember  that  at  that  period  various 
forms  of  peonage  were  prevalent  the  world  over.  Among 
the  nations  of  Europe  men  often  sold  their  service  for  a 
period  of  time,  and  even  that  of  their  wives  and  children  hi 
payment  of  debt,  and  it  was  not  unusual  for  persons  to  sell 
their  service  for  life  as  a  provision  for  old  age. 

In  all  our  colonies  there  were  large  numbers  of  emigrants 
who  pledged  a  definite  amount  of  future  service  in  payment 
for  their  transportation  hither.  It  must  be  remembered, 
too,  that  in  the  planting  of  these  colonies  there  was  every- 
where a  most  urgent  demand  for  manual  labor.  This  was 
especially  true  in  Virginia,  as  a  large  number  of  her  first 
emigrants  were  unaccustomed  to  the  kind  of  labor  needful 
for  the  securing  of  their  daily  bread.  The  brain  was  there, 
but  the  brawn  was  wanting.  The  colonists  were  well  ad- 
vised of  the  profits  which  the  planters  in  the  West  Indies 
derived  from  slave  labor,  and  it  was  but  a  short  step  from 
indentured  service  to  the  employment  of  slaves  for  life, 
and  just  then  the  time  seemed  ripe  for  such  an  opportunity. 

192 


in  t$t  ftnitefc 


It  was  then  that  the  Dutch  were  the  leading  maritime  trad- 
ers of  the  world,  and  the  commander  of  one  of  these  vessels, 
while  nearing  the  West  Indies  with  a  cargo  consisting  partly 
of  negroes,  was  advised  to  try  the  market  in  Virginia,  and  he 
immediately  set  sail  for  that  shore.  For  the  precise  date 
of  his  arrival  we  are  indebted  to  the  notes  of  Mr.  John 
Rolfe,  the  husband  of  Pocahontas,  from  which  the  follow- 
ing is  an  extract:  "A  Dutch  man  of  war,  that  sold  us 
twenty  negroes  came  to  Jamestown  late  in  August,  1619." 
While  neither  the  name  of  the  commander  nor  that  of  the 
ship  have  been  preserved,  this  record  fixes  the  precise  date 
of  the  introduction  of  slavery  into  the  United  States,  then 
the  British  Colonies,  thus  antedating  by  one  year  the  land- 
ing of  the  Mayflower  at  Plymouth. 

From  that  time  on,  the  introduction  of  slaves  steadily  in- 
creased, as  the  colonists  found  means  for  their  purchase. 
An  instance  in  point  is  this: 

In  1630,  an  English  slaver  which  had  secured  a  cargo  of 
slaves  brought  them  directly  to  Virginia  and  exchanged 
them  for  eighty-five  hogsheads  and  five  bales  of  tobacco 
which  went  to  the  London  market.  Nor  was  the  traffic 
confined  to  our  own  Colonies.  The  Dutch  then  held  posses- 
sion of  Manhattan,  now  New  York,  and  immediately  upon 
their  settlement  there,  slaves  were  introduced.  The  first 
record  of  transaction  in  slaves  shows  that  as  early  as  1629 
the  business  was  well  under  way,  since  a  permit  was  then 
granted  for  the  incorporation  of  the  "West  India  Com- 
pany," in  which  it  was  stipulated  that  "the  company  shall 
endeavor  to  supply  the  colony  with  as  many  Blacks  as  they 
conveniently  can  and  shall  allow  to  each  Patroon,  twelve 

193 


African 


Blacks,  men  and  women,  out  of  the  prizes  in  which  negroes 
are  taken."  Thus  the  grant  seems  to  have  been  given  for 
a  consideration,  and  it  appears  that  "graft"  was  even  then 
in  vogue  on  that  island,  and  destined  to  flourish  there  in 
later  days. 

While  England,  since  her  treaty  with  Spain  in  1713,  had 
held  the  monopoly  of  the  slave  trade  upon  the  high  seas, 
she  had  made  large  and  continuous  appropriations  for  the 
building,  repairing  and  maintaining  of  forts  and  barracoons 
upon  the  African  coast.  Between  the  years  1729  and  1750, 
the  sum  thus  expended  amounted  to  five  million,  four  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  dollars. 

While  England  was  thus  enriching  her  national  exche- 
quer, and  constantly  developing  her  maritime  power, 
shrewd  men  in  her  New  England  colonies  saw  no  good  rea- 
son why  they  might  not  lend  a  hand  and  share  in  the  profits, 
and  were  it  not  a  matter  of  history  we  could  hardly  credit 
the  extent  to  which  the  New  England  colonies  were  responsi- 
ble for  the  introduction  of  slaves  into  this  country. 

The  first  vessel  built  in  New  England  and  designed  for 
the  slave  trade  was  launched  at  Marblehead  in  1636,  and 
named  "The  Desire."  From  that  date  on,  and  in  spite  of 
all  law,  and  long  after  it  had  been  declared  piracy,  the 
traffic  was  carried  on  under  the  American  flag,  nor  was  the 
smuggling  suppressed  until  our  Southern  ports  were  blockad- 
ed at  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  War.  Very  early  in  its 
history  the  men  of  New  England  became  noted  the  world 
over  for  their  seamanship.  In  1789,  Governor  Granston 
of  Rhode  Island  reported  that  between  1638  and  1708  one 
hundred  and  three  vessels  had  been  built  in  that  state,  all 

194 


in  tfje 


of  which  were  trading  with  the  West  Indies  and  our  South- 
ern colonies.  They  took  out  lumber,  fish,  and  merchandise 
to  the  Indies,  and  from  thence  they  made  their  way  to  the 
African  coast  for  a  cargo  of  slaves  to  be  sold  in  the  Indies, 
or  in  our  Southern  colonies  as  the  market  might  best  war- 
rant. Coming  home  they  freighted  with  salt,  tropical 
products,  and  molasses  for  the  rum  trade.  That  the  slave 
trade  was  their  principal  business  is  evident  from  such 
records  as  those  of  Dr.  Samuel  Hopkins,  who  wrote  as 
follows:  "Rhode  Island  in  1770  had  one  hundred  and 
fifty  vessels  in  the  slave  trade,"  and  later  in  1787  he  makes 
this  remarkable  statement:  "The  trade  in  human  species 
has  been  the  first  wheel  of  commerce  in  Newport  on  which 
every  other  business  has  depended.  The  town  has  been 
built  up  and  flourished  in  the  past  on  the  slave  trade,  and 
out  of  it  the  inhabitants  have  gotten  most  of  their  wealth 
and  riches,"  and  he  adds  incidentally,  "It  has  enslaved 
more  Africans  than  any  other  colony  in  New  England." 

Such  were  the  relations  with  the  northern  colonies  and 
slavery.  Both  North  and  South  were  in  the  business  for 
profit.  It  was  for  one  party  to  supply  the  slaves  and  for 
the  other  to  reap  the  reward  of  their  labor.  While  the  pro- 
fits from  their  labor  in  the  West  Indies  was  rapidly  increas- 
ing the  demand  for  slaves,  such  was  not  at  first  the  case  in 
our  own  colonies  where  it  was  often  a  question  whether  the 
profits  of  their  labor  would  warrant  their  importation;  and 
so  limited  was  the  demand  that  before  1630  no  vessels 
dealing  exclusively  in  slaves  came  to  our  colonies,  those 
thus  imported  being  billed  as  part  of  a  cargo  with  other 
merchandise.  In  1635  only  twenty-six  slaves  were  imported 

195 


African 


to  Virginia;  only  seven  in  1642;  eighty-seven  in  1649; 
and  in  1650  the  entire  number  in  the  colonies  was  only 
a  few  hundreds,  or  less  than  a  single  cargo  as  they  were 
brought  in  later  years.  The  severity  of  the  climate  was 
unfavorable  for  their  introduction  at  the  North,  and  in  the 
South  the  profits  from  the  production  of  pitch,  tar,  turpen- 
tine, and  wood  ash  failed  to  be  remunerative.  Indeed,  the 
opinion  was  very  generally  prevalent,  both  North  and 
South,  that  negro  slavery  was  destined  to  die  out. 

In  all  the  colonies,  the  greater  part  of  field  labor,  such  as 
chopping,  digging,  and  field  culture  was  performed  by  work- 
ing men  and  women  who  were  brought  to  this  country  un- 
der contract  to  serve  for  a  stated  period  of  time,  and  when 
they  arrived  in  Virginia  such  service  was  often  sold  in  the 
open  market  to  the  highest  bidder,  and  by  these  indentured 
servants  the  heavier  field  and  house  work  was  performed. 
But  while  this  was  true  in  Virginia,  it  was  less  so  in  the  North, 
where  the  settlers  were  usually  able-bodied  men  with  large 
families  who  relied  but  little  upon  hired  help,  and  who 
very  generally  put  into  practice  Franklin 's  popular  maxim : 
"He  that  by  the  plough  would  thrive,  himself  must  either 
hold  or  drive." 

While  such  service  for  a  definite  time  could  be  put  on  the 
market,  it  seemed  but  a  step  further  to  purchase  such  ser- 
vice for  life.  And  yet  so  far  as  the  question  of  buying  and 
selling  of  African  slaves  was  concerned,  there  were  many 
persons  in  all  the  colonies  who  strongly  protested  against 
the  custom.  On  the  other  hand,  there  were  those  who 
were  ready  to  defend  the  trade  on  moral  and  biblical 
grounds,  deeming  it  a  most  righteous  act  to  bring  these  poor, 

196 


m  te  ftnitefc 


benighted  heathen  from  the  jungles  of  Africa  to  this  gospel 
land  where  they  could  be  Christianized. 

Thus  matters  remained,  with  little  discussion,  for  a  series 
of  years.  Pecuniary  gain  was  hardly  a  sufficient  incentive 
and  the  moral  convictions  of  the  would-be  missionaries 
counted  but  little  to  stimulate  slave  importation;  and  if 
only  pitch,  tar,  turpentine,  wood  ash  and  even  tobacco 
had  remained  the  chief  articles  of  export,  doubtless  millions 
of  negroes  who  were  destined  to  toil  and  die  on  American 
soil  would  never  have  left  their  native  land.  But  the  hour 
was  at  hand  when  new  industries  were  to  make  unparalleled 
demands  for  slave  labor  and  revolutionize  the  commerce 
of  the  world. 

As  early  as  1612  Captain  John  Rolfe,  of  Pocahontas  fame, 
had  introduced  the  culture  of  tobacco  in  Virginia,  and  such 
a  market  had  sprung  up  abroad  that  its  production  was 
becoming  exceedingly  profitable.  The  growing  of  tobacco 
involved  severe  manual  labor  to  which  the  ordinary 
"apprenticed"  labor  was  ill  adapted.  It  was  found  that 
negroes  inured  to  a  tropical  climate  were  eminently  fitted 
for  just  this  kind  of  toil,  and  as  there  was  a  constantly  in- 
creasing demand  for  tobacco  so  there  was  an  increased  de- 
mand for  slaves  and  an  increase  in  their  value,  and  when 
there  was  added  to  the  raising  of  tobacco  in  Virginia  the 
culture  of  rice  in  South  Carolina,  and  of  sugar  cane  in  the 
gulf  states,  still  larger  requisitions  were  made.  But  when 
the  cotton  gin  was  invented  by  Eli  Whitney  in  1797  and 
cotton  became  "king,"  then  began  such  a  demand  for 
slaves  as  was  never  satisfied  up  to  the  day  when  slavery  was 
abolished. 

197 


African 


It  has  been  said  that  cotton  was  the  cause  of  the  Civil 
War,  and  a  few  words  with  reference  to  this  staple  may  not 
be  amiss  here.  As  a  fabric  it  had  been  known  in  China  for 
ages,  and  there  and  in  Egypt  it  had  been  cultivated  to  a 
limited  extent,  but  it  was  not  until  the  opening  of  the  i8th 
century  that  England  began  the  greatest  market  in  the 
world  for  its  manufacture  and  sent  its  fabrics  to  all  quarters 
of  the  globe.  A  brief  reference  to  figures  will  best  indicate 
the  rapidity  with  which  her  trade  was  developed.  In 
1700,  the  import  of  cotton  was  1,000,000  pounds;  in  1720, 
2,200,000  pounds;  in  1750,  3,900,000  pounds;  in  1800,  51,- 
000,000  pounds;  in  1820,  151,000,000;  in  1850,  688,200,000 
pounds;  and  in  1870,  1,101,191,250  pounds. 

To  meet  such  needs,  England  went  the  world  over  in 
search  of  cotton,  but  nowhere  was  the  quality  equal  to  that 
grown  in  the  United  States.  Hence  our  exports  went  for- 
ward by  leaps  and  bounds,  assuming  enormous  proportions, 
and,  save  for  the  sugar  crop  all  other  Southern  industries 
sank  into  insignificance.  The  entire  Gulf  States  were 
eminently  adapted  to  cotton  culture,  and  awaiting  the  com- 
ing of  the  planter  and  his  slaves.  Several  thousand  acres 
were  often  included  in  a  single  plantation,  and,  so  widely 
separated,  the  slaves  had  little  knowledge  of  the  outside 
world,  and  could  be  the  more  easily  controlled. 

Thus  situated,  it  was  entirely  impracticable  to  organize 
district  schools  for  children.  Tutors  were  employed  on  the 
plantations:  and  it  was  common  for  students  to  complete 
their  educations  at  seminaries  and  colleges  in  this  country  or 
in  foreign  lands.  Accordingly,  in  a  vast  number  of  cases,  a  high 
grade  of  culture  was  attained,  and  the  South  abounded  in  men 

198 


in  tfje  ftnitefc 


and  women  who,  in  cultivation  and  refinement,  had  no  superi- 
ors, while  to  the  poorer  classes  the  advantages  of  common 
schools  were  largely  denied,  and  illiteracy  was  the  result. 
The  consequence  was  the  development  of  a  cultured  aris- 
tocracy which  came  to  dominate  not  only  the  plantation 
but  the  social  and  political  life  of  the  states,  and  also  for 
years  to  control  our  nation.  It  was  but  natural  that  the 
slave  holding  people  should  resent  the  least  interference 
with  this  domestic  institution  which  meant  so  much  to 
them,  and  leading  men  like  Mr.  Calhoun,  Hayne,  Jefferson 
Davis  and  a  thousand  others  held  "States'  Rights"  para- 
mount to  national  obligations.  Hence  secession  was 
threatened  as  early  as  1832,  and  fatally  attempted  in  1861. 
In  an  early  day  Southern  statesmen  foresaw  the  incoming 
of  a  mighty  host  of  free  white  from  the  old  world,  destined 
to  people  the  great  Northwestern  territory,  and  if  they  were 
to  have  an  equal  number  of  states  and  representation  in 
the  United  States  Senate,  they  must  rapidly  increase  the 
area  which  might  in  the  future  be  counted  upon  for  slave 
states.  So  when  the  Louisiana  Purchase  was  made  in 
1803,  all  that  portion  south  of  34.30  degrees  was  secured 
to  the  slave  interest.  There  was  calling  all  along  the  line 
—  England  calling  for  more  cotton,  planters  for  more 
slaves,  the  South  for  more  slave  territory,  and  Southern 
statesmen  for  better  protection  for  their  institution,  on  the 
part  of  the  government,  and  the  right  to  take  their  slaves 
into  territories  hitherto  free.  Hence  the  connivance  with 
the  slave  trade  by  all  clandestine  means,  and  the  incessant 
demand  that  went  to  Virginia  as  a  slave-breeding  state. 
Hardly  had  the  Louisiana  Purchase  been  acquired  when  in 

199 


African 


1819,  Florida  was  purchased  and  became  slave  territory. 
After  a  bitter  struggle  and  a  second  compromise,  Missouri 
was  admitted  as  a  slave  state.  Southern  statesmen  also 
early  saw  the  necessity  of  acquiring  Texas.  Under  Mexi- 
can rule  it  was  free  territory.  By  strategic  means  it  was 
wrested  and  became  a  slave  republic,  and  in  1846  it  was 
admitted  as  a  slave  state,  with  the  provision  that,  if  need 
be,  four  states  might  be  created  from  the  same.  Soon 
filibusters  reached  out  for  Cuba,  but  were  foiled  in  the 
attempt.  Then  it  seemed  desirable  to  lay  hands  upon  the 
free  territory  of  Northern  Mexico,  that  in  due  time  slavery 
might  be  extended  to  the  Rio  Grande.  Hence  came  the 
Mexican  War  with  a  large  slice  of  Mexican  territory,  and 
to  round  out  the  Southern  border,  the  Gadsden  purchase  of 
more  of  that  territory  was  secured.  It  seemed  then  but 
a  simple  matter  to  push  the  Southern  line  to  the  Pacific 
coast  and  take  in  California.  But  the  discovery  of  gold 
in  that  state  and  the  influx  of  gold  seekers  nipped  that 
scheme  in  the  bud. 

The  rapid  increase  in  slave  population  raises  the  question 
as  to  the  sources  of  supply.  Of  these  there  were  three: 
first,  the  purchase  of  slaves  in  the  Northern  slave  states, 
which  led  to  the  business  of  breeding  slaves  for  the  Southern 
market.  In  this  business,  Virginia  outdid  all  others  com- 
bined. In  her  palmy  days  she  was  justly  styled  "  the  Moth- 
er of  Presidents."  In  the  days  of  her  infamy  she  was  the 
breeding  mother  of  slaves.  In  proof  of  this,  let  a  single 
fact  be  given.  The  Niles  Register,  one  of  the  official  organs 
at  Washington,  under  date  of  October  8, 1836,  quotes  from 
the  Virginia  Times,  which  states  that  no  less  than  forty 


in  ttje  ftnitefc 


thousand  slaves  had  been  exported  from  Virginia  to  other 
states  during  the  preceding  fiscal  year;  that  the  price  of 
these  averaged  six  hundred  dollars  a  head,  bringing  to  the 
state  the  enormous  sum  of  twenty-four  million  dollars.  If 
that  be  the  revenue  derived  in  a  single  year,  what  must  have 
been  the  income  from  the  traffic  for  more  than  half  a  cen- 
tury? The  second  source  of  supply  was  from  the  West 
Indies,  where  slaves  captured  in  Africa  were  landed 
for  the  time  and  held  for  deportation  elsewhere  as  the 
market  might  best  warrant.  The  proximity  of  those  islands 
to  our  coast  rendered  it  difficult  to  prevent  the  smuggling  of 
slaves  even  had  the  government  been  diligent  for  its  pre- 
vention, and  since  it  had  become  the  settled  policy  of  the 
government  not  to  interfere  with  the  domestic  institution  of 
the  South,  the  laws  concerning  piracy  had  become  well  nigh 
a  dead  letter,  and  were  never  more  flagrantly  violated  than 
during  the  years  immediately  preceding  the  Civil  War. 
We  have  the  statement  of  Senator  Stephen  A.  Douglas 
that,  in  the  year  1859,  fifteen  thousand  slaves  were  thus 
smuggled  into  the  Southern  states.  Nor  was  this  an  ex- 
ceptional year,  for  the  trade  had  been  thus  carried  on  year 
by  year  with  seeming  impunity.  The  third  method  of 
supply  was  by  shipping  them  directly  from  the  African 
coast.  From  the  administration  of  Jackson  to  the  close 
of  that  of  Buchanan,  a  continuous  traffic  had  been  carried 
on  under  the  American  flag,  not  of  course  with  govern- 
mental sanction,  but  in  spite  of  its  efforts  for  its  prevention. 
While  our  government  pretended  to  co-operate  with 
England  in  maintaining  a  squadron  on  the  Atlantic  coast 
for  the  suppression  of  slave  trade,  the  official  reports  sent 


African 


home  constantly  declared  that  no  slavers  were  discovered, 
and  our  flag  was  in  fact  a  protection  from  capture  by  the 
British  squadron.  As  a  burlesque  and  a  seeming  menace, 
one  of  these  slave  ships  was  named  "The  Martin  Van 
Buren"  and  another  "James  Buchanan."  To  cap  the 
climax,  Commodore  Perry,  commander  of  the  African  squa- 
dron, writes  to  A.  P.  Usher,  secretary  of  war  in  1848  as 
follows:  "I  cannot  hear  of  any  American  vessel  being 
engaged  in  the  transportation  of  slaves,  nor  do  I  believe 
one  has  been  so  engaged  for  several  years."  And  yet  that 
same  year  our  consul  at  Rio  Janeiro,  Mr.  Wise  of  Virginia, 
writes:  "We  are  a  byword  among  the  nations,  the  only 
people  who  can  fetch  and  carry  everything  for  the  slave 
trade  without  fear  of  English  cruisers."  This  Commodore 
Perry  was  just  the  man  to  be  put  in  command  of  our  Gulf 
Squadron  during  the  Mexican  War.  Let  his  name  never 
be  confounded  with  that  of  his  noble  brother,  Admiral 
Hazard  Perry,  who  opened  up  to  us  communication  with 
Japan. 

The  scene  changes  when  the  African  comes  under  the 
command  of  Admiral  Foote,  and  eleven  slave  ships  were 
captured  in  1858.  And  yet  Secretary  Toucy  of  the  navy 
had  previously  said  that  his  department  had  been  active, 
and  that  if  Cuba  were  to  pass  under  the  Constitution  of  the 
United  States  by  annexation,  the  trade  would  then  be 
effectually  suppressed. 

To  show  how  base,  bold  and  shamefully  untrue  this 
statement  of  Secretary  Toucy  was,  it  is  only  necessary  to 
consider  the  action  of  a  single  citizen  belonging  to  one  of  the 
most  noted  families  in  Savannah,  Georgia — Mr.  Charles  L. 


in  rtje  ftniteii 


La  Mar.  The  facts  came  to  light  through  the  accidental 
discovery  of  his  letter  book  which  had  found  its  way  to  a 
paper  mill,  and  from  thence  to  the  public  in  the  North 
American  Review  in  November,  1886.  The  entries  there 
made  give  evidence  of  the  condition  of  the  trade  so  far  as 
he  was  concerned,  in  the  decade  before  the  Civil  War,  when 
he  was  killed  in  battle.  I  will  here  cite  only  one  or  two 
quotations : 

His  first  letter  referring  to  slavery  was  written  to  his 
father,  criticising  him  for  not  sympathizing  with  him  or 
approving  of  the  slave  trade,  to  which  the  son  was  now 
devoting  himself.  The  letter  to  his  father  is  dated  October 
31,  1857,  and  says:  "You  need  give  yourself  no  uneasiness 
about  the  Africans  and  the  slave  trade.  I  was  astonished 
at  some  of  your  remarks  in  your  letter.  They  show  that 
you  have  been  impressed  with  something  more  than  the 

panic  by  your  association  with  Mrs. .  For  example,  you 

say  'an  expedition  to  the  moon  would  have  been  equally 
as  sensible,  and  more  according  to  the  will  of  Providence. 
May  God  forgive  you  all  your  attempts  to  violate  his  will 
and  his  law.'"  Quoting  these  notable  words  from  his 
father's  letter,  the  younger  La  Mar  continues  his  reply  as 
follows:  "Following  this  train  of  thought,  where  would  it 
land  the  whole  Southern  Confederacy?  You  need  not  re- 
proach yourself  for  not  interposing  with  a  stronger  power 
than  argument  and  persuasion  to  prevent  the  expedition. 
There  was  nothing  which  you  or  the  government  could 
have  done  to  prevent  it.  Let  all  the  sin  be  on  me.  I  am 
willing  to  bear  it  all." 

But  it  seems  his  vessel  did  not  go  to  sea  without  hindrance, 

203 


African 


for,  with  the  suspicion  that  it  was  intending  to  put  to  sea  as 
a  slaver,  the  post  collector  did  not  seize  the  vessel,  but  de- 
tained it  and  promised  to  grant  damages  for  detention. 
The  bill  rendered  to  the  government  for  such  detention  was 
for  thirteen  hundred  and  twenty-one  dollars.  La  Mar  writes 
to  Howell  Cobb,  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  under  date,  July 
27,  1857,  or  rather  as  Secretary  of  the  Treasury  under 
President  Buchanan,  stating  that  "the  vessel  had  been  de- 
tained eight  days,  the  collector  saying  the  Government 
would  not  reply  to  my  claim  for  damages." 

The  district  attorney  and  all  the  lawyers  he  consulted 
and  the  custom  house  officer  united  in  saying  there 
was  nothing  to  cause  suspicion  and  the  vessel,  was 
released  and  the  bill  for  damages  was  paid.  The  captain 
of  his  vessel  he  says  though  honest,  was  fearful  of  capture 
on  the  African  coast.  The  vessel  made  a  failure  and  re- 
turned to  New  Orleans.  A  significant  remark  of  his  shows 
the  attitude  of  the  government  with  reference  to  slavers  in 
the  time  of  Buchanan's  administration.  La  Mar  says: 
"He  ought  to  have  known  he  was  running  no  risk.  The 
captains  and  the  crew  are  always  discharged.  If  Grant 
had  been  equal  to  the  emergency,  we  would  have  been  easy  in 
money  matters."  In  a  letter  to  Theodore  Johnson  of  New 
Orleans,  dated  December  23,  1858,  he  says:  "In  reference 
to  Grant,  discharge  him  —  pay  him  nothing,  and  hope  with 
me  that  he  speedily  land  in  hell."  But  La  Mar  was  in  no 
wise  discouraged  and  soon  prosperity  came  to  his  company 
of  smugglers,  and  three  efficient  vessels,  the  E.  A.  Rawlins, 
the  Richard  Cobden,  and  the  Wanderer  were  put  into  the 
trade. 

204 


in  flje 


La  Mar  also  contemplated  buying  a  steamer  for  the  same 
purpose.  Under  date  of  May  24,  1858,  he  wrote  to  Thomas 
Barrell,  Esq.,  of  Augusta,  Georgia,  as  follows:  "I  have 
in  contemplation,  if  I  can  raise  the  amount  of  money,  the 
fitting  out  of  an  expedition  to  go  to  the  south  of  Africa  for 
a  cargo  of  African  apprentices,  to  be  bound  for  the  term  of 
their  natural  lives,  and  would  like  your  co-operation.  No 
subscription  will  be  received  for  less  than  five  thousand 
dollars.  The  amount  to  be  raised  is  three  hundred  thousand 
dollars.  "I  will  take  $20,000  of  the  stock  and  go  myself. 
I  propose  to  purchase  the  Vigo,  an  iron  screw  steamer  of  1750 
tons,  now  for  sale  in  Liverpool  for  $150,000  cash.  The  cost, 
$375,000.  G.  B.  La  Mar  can  give  you  a  description  of  her. 
She  is  as  good  as  new,  save  her  boilers,  and  they  can  be  used 
for  several  months.  If  I  can  buy  her,  I  will  put  in  six 
Paixhen  guns  on  deck  and  man  her  with  as  good  men  as  can 
be  found  in  the  South.  The  fighting  men  will  all  be  stock- 
holders and  gentlemen,  some  of  whom  are  known  to  you,  if 
not  personally,  by  reputation.  I  have,  as  you  know,  a  vessel 
now  afloat,  but  it  is  in  my  mind  extremely  doubtful  whether 
she  can  get  in  safely,  as  she  had  to  wait  on  the  coast  until  a 
cargo  could  be  collected.  If  she  ever  gets  clear  of  the  coast, 
they  can't  catch  her.  She  ought  to  be  due  in  from  ten  to 
thirty  days.  I  have  another  now  ready  to  sail  which  has 
orders  to  order  1,000  or  1,200  to  be  in  readiness  the  ist  of 
September,  but  to  be  kept  if  necessary  until  the  ist  of 
October,  which  I  intend  for  the  slavers  so  that  there  may  be 
no  delay.  With  her,  I  can  make  a  voyage  there  and  back, 
including  all  bad  weather  if  I  encounter  it,  etc.,  in  ninety 
days,  certain  and  sure,  and  the  negroes  can  be  sold  as  fast 

205 


African 


as  landed  at  $650  a  head.  I  can  contract  them  to  arrive 
at  that  price.  The  Vigo  can  bring  2,000  with  ease  and 
comfort,  and  I  apprehend  no  difficulty  or  risk  save  that  of 
shipwreck  and  that  you  can  insure  against.  I  can  get  one 
of  the  first  lieutenants  in  the  Navy  to  go  in  command  and 
can  whip  anything  if  attacked  that  is  on  that  station,  Eng- 
lish or  American.  But  I  would  not  propose  to  fight,  for 
the  Vigo  can  steam  eleven  knots  an  hour,  which  would  put 
us  out  of  the  way  of  any  cruiser." 

In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Roundtree,  of  Nashville,  he  states  the 
cost  at  $300,000.  The  sale  of  1,200  at  $650  each,  $780,000. 
Net  profit  besides  steamer,  $480,000. 

But  this  scheme  did  not  materialize  and  it  is  only  quoted 
to  show  the  condition  of  the  slave  trade  in  the  United 
States  in  the  year  1858,  during  the  administration  of 
President  Buchanan. 

Of  the  three  vessels  named,  the  career  of  the  Wanderer, 
briefly  sketched,  will  give  the  history  of  the  last  of  the 
piratical  slave  ships.  The  Wanderer  was  built  at  Port 
Jefferson,  L.  I.,  for  Mr.  J.  D.  Jefferson,  a  wealthy  member 
of  the  New  York  Yacht  Club,  in  1857.  It  was  said  of  her 
that  she  could  fly  instead  of  sailing,  such  was  her  speed. 
In  May,  1858,  she  was  sold  and  sent  South,  her  captain  be- 
ing a  brother  of  the  Confederate  Admiral  Symmes.  She 
went  to  Charleston  and  thence  to  Trinidad,  ostensibly  on 
a  pleasure  trip.  From  thence,  she  went  to  the  Congo  coast, 
still  flying  the  flag  of  the  New  York  Yacht  Club.  On  the 
coast  she  entertained  officers  of  British  cruisers  with  the 
idea  that  she  was  a  pleasure  craft.  She  was  fitted  up  in 
magnificent  style,  and  even  won  a  handsome  race  with  a 

206 


in 


British  yacht,  and  entertained  her  British  guests  elaborate- 
ly on  shore.  The  British  sailed  away.  Then,  according  to 
a  statement  in  the  New  York  Sun,  she  went  to  Baracooas 
on  the  Congo  River  and  purchased  seven  hundred  and 
fifty  young  negroes.  She  cleared  from  Africa  with  a  full 
cargo  of  slaves  and  reached  the  coast  of  Georgia,  in  Decem- 
ber, 1858.  The  owners  of  the  Wanderer  were  Captain 
Corey,  the  original  purchaser,  Charles  A.  La  Mar  of  Savan- 
nah, N.  C.  Trowbridge  of  New  Orleans,  Captain  A.  C. 
McGee  of  Columbus,  Georgia,  Richard  Dickinson  of 
Richmond,  Virginia,  and  Benjamin  Davis  of  Charleston, 
South  Carolina.  The  cargo  was  now  upon  the  coast  of 
Georgia,  but  the  difficulty  was  to  secretly  and  safely  land 
it.  In  an  interview  with  a  reporter  for  the  New  York  Sun, 
several  years  later,  Captain  McGee  related  how  it  was  done. 

He  stated:  "The  most  difficult  part  of  the  voyage  was 
to  get  into  port.  The  only  way  to  enter  the  mouth  of 
Savannah  River  was  under  the  black  muzzles  of  the  guns 
of  the  fort,  and  it  would  have  been  madness  to  attempt  to 
enter  with  that  contraband  cargo  in  the  daytime.  Instead, 
Captain  Symmes  crept  into  the  mouth  of  the  Great  Ogeeche 
by  night,  and  ascended  to  the  big  swamp  and  there  lay 
concealed  while  he  communicated  with  La  Mar  at  Savan- 
nah. La  Mar  thereupon  announced  that  he  was  going  to 
give  a  grand  ball  in  honor  of  the  officers  and  garrison  of  the 
fort,  and  insisted  that  the  soldiers  as  well  as  the  officers 
should  partake  of  the  good  cheer. 

"When  the  festivity  was  at  its  height  the  Wanderer  stole 
into  the  river  and  passed  the  guns  of  the  fort  unchallenged, 
and  made  her  way  to  La  Mar 's  plantation  some  distance  up 

207 


African 


the  river;  the  human  cargo  was  soon  disembarked  and 
placed  in  charge  of  the  old  rice-field  negroes  who  were  nearly 
as  savage  as  the  new  importation."  But  the  tricks  of  the 
smugglers  were  not  entirely  successful,  for  La  Mar  wrote  to 
N.  C.  Trowbridge  of  New  Orleans,  under  date  of  December 
15,  1858,  that  the  United  States  District  Attorney  was 
after  him.  He  said:  "I  returned  from  Augusta  this 
morning.  I  distributed  the  negroes  as  I  could,  but  I  tell 
you  things  are  in  a  hell  of  a  fix,  no  certainty  about  anything. 
The  government  has  employed  H.  R.  Jackson  to  assist  in 
the  prosecution  and  is  determined  to  press  the  matter  to  the 
utmost  extremity.  The  yacht  has  been  seized.  The 
examination  commenced  to-day,  and  will  continue  for  thirty 
days  at  the  rate  things  are  going  on. 

"They  have  all  the  pilots  and  men  who  took  the  yacht  to 
Brunswick  here  to  testify.  She  will  be  lost,  certain  and 
sure,  if  not  the  negroes.  Dr.  Hazlehurst  testified  that  he 
attended  the  negroes,  and  swore  that  the  Africans  were  of 
recent  importation.  I  don't  calculate  to  give  a  new  dollar 
for  an  old  one.  All  these  men  must  be  bribed.  I  must  be 
paid  for  my  trouble  and  advances.  Six  of  those  who  were 
left  at  Monts,  who  were  sick,  died  yesterday.  I  think  the 
whole  of  them  now  sick  will  die.  They  are  too  sick  to  ad- 
minister medicine  to.  I  am  paying  fifty  cents  a  day  for  all 
I  took  up  the  country.  It  was  the  best  I  could  do  —  I 
tell  you  hell  is  to  pay.  I  don't  think  they  will  discharge 
the  men,  but  turn  them  over  for  trial." 

And  since  his  confidence  was  betrayed  there  was  still 
more  trouble.  In  a  letter  to  Theodore  Johnson  of  New 
Orleans,  he  writes:  "I  am  astonished  at  what  Governor 

208 


in  tfte  ftnitefc 


Phinz  writes  me.  The  idea  of  taking  negroes  to  keep  at 
fifty  cents  a  day,  and  then  refusing  to  give  them  up  when 
demanded,  simply  because  the  law  does  not  recognize  them 
as  property,  is  worse  than  stealing." 

It  seems  that  at  this  time  La  Mar  had  three  vessels  in 
the  slave  trade,  and  he  writes  to  C.  C.  Cook  of  Blakely, 
Georgia,  as  follows:  "You  are  aware  that  this  is  risky 
business.  I  lost  two  out  of  three.  To  be  sure,  at  the  first 
I  knew  nothing  about  the  business.  I  have  learned  some- 
thing since,  and  I  hope  I  can  put  my  information  to  some 
account.  I  have  been  in  for  'grandeur,'  and  been  fighting 
for  principle.  Now  I  am  in  for  dollars." 

But  while  in  trouble  himself,  and  deeming  his  own  arrest 
probable,  he  seems  to  have  been  true  to  the  men  of  his  crew, 
for  he  wrote  to  Captain  C.  D.  Brown,  one  of  the  men  under 
arrest,  as  follows :  "Your  attorneys  will  visit  you  before  the 
trial.  If  a  true  bill  is  found  against  you  by  the  Grand 
Jury,  it  will  be  done  upon  the  evidence  of  Club  and  Harris, 
and  they  will  of  course  testify  to  the  same  thing.  In  that 
case,  I  think  you  all  ought  to  leave,  and  I  will  make  arrange- 
ments for  you  to  do  so  if  you  agree  with  me.  I  have  offered 
Club  and  Harris  $5,000  not  to  testify,  but  the  government 
is  trying  to  buy  them  also." 

In  the  same  letter  he  says:  "I  am  afraid  they  will  con- 
vict me,  but  my  case  is  only  seven  years  and  a  fine.  If  I 
find  they  are  likely  to  do  so,  I  shall  go  to  Cuba  until  I  make 
some  compromise  with  the  government."  The  result  was 
that  the  arrested  persons  escaped  punishment.  La  Mar  did 
not  go  to  Cuba,  but  the  vessel,  the  Wanderer,  was  con- 
demned and  sold  at  auction  at  one  fourth  its  value  to  its 

209 


African 


former  owners,  to  be  used  ostensibly  as  a  merchant  schooner. 
In  the  disposal  of  the  negroes  they  were  more  fortunate. 
Captain  McGee,  already  quoted,  says:  "The  slaves  which 
had  been  purchased  for  a  few  beads  and  a  bandanna  hand- 
kerchief, were  sold  for  six  and  seven  hundred  dollars  apiece. 
The  owners  of  the  vessel  paid  Captain  Symmes  $3,500  for 
his  services,  and  cleared  upwards  of  $10,000  apiece  for  them- 
selves." 

The  capture  of  the  Wanderer  created  intense  excitement 
throughout  the  country,  for  the  slave  question  was  at  fever 
heat.  Senator  Wilson  introduced  a  motion  into  the  Senate, 
calling  on  President  Buchanan  for  all  the  facts  which  the 
government  had  in  its  possession  in  the  case.  His  reply  to 
the  Senate  was  as  follows: 

"I  concur  with  the  Attorney  General  (J.  S.  Black)  in  the 
opinion  that  it  would  be  incompatible  with  public  interest 
at  this  time  to  communicate  the  correspondence  with  the 
officers  of  the  government  at  Savannah  per  the  instructions 
which  they  have  received."  But  he  promised  to  make 
every  practicable  effort  to  discover  the  guilty  parties  and 
bring  them  to  justice.  With  respect  to  the  Wanderer,  which 
had  been  condemned  and  bought  in  by  its  former  owners, 
Captain  McGee  had  this  further  to  say:  "In  the  spring 
of  1859,  the  Wanderer  again  sailed  for  the  West  coast  of 
Africa,  Captain  Symmes  again  in  command.  The  King  was 
ready  to  treat  with  him  on  the  most  liberal  terms  and  de- 
livered to  him  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  a  valuable  cargo. 
They  were  more  intelligent  than  the  first  cargo,  lighter  in 
color,  and  better  hi  many  respects  than  those  captured 
nearer  the  coast.  A  number  of  them  died  during  the 


ht  tfje  ftnttefc 


voyage  and  the  Wanderer  was  put  to  her  best  speed  on 
several  occasions  to  get  away  from  undesirable  acquaint- 
ances. But  she  was  never  overhauled  and  arrived  off  the 
Georgia  coast  in  December,  1859.  She  was  caught  in  a 
violent  gale,  and  in  attempting  to  enter  Jeckyl  Creek  be- 
tween Jeckyl  and  Cumberland  Islands,  she  ran  aground  on 
a  stormy  night.  A  number  of  the  captives  escaped  from 
the  hold,  jumped  into  the  sea,  and  were  drowned. 

The  negroes  were  sent  to  New  Orleans,  except  a  few  who 
were  scattered  about  among  the  Georgia  planters.  The 
profits  were  quite  as  large  as  from  the  first  expedition,  and 
but  for  the  Civil  War  and  the  blockading  of  Savannah 
harbor,  the  Wanderer  might  have  made  another  voyage 
in  1860.  As  it  was,  she  was  hemmed  in  up  the  river  by  the 
blockade,  and  finally  sold  to  the  Confederate  government. 
She  was  finally  captured  by  the  Federal  forces  and  for  a 
time  was  used  as  a  revenue  cutter  at  Pensacola,  and  was 
finally  wrecked  off  the  coast  of  Cape  Henry." 

I  have  quoted  thus  extensively  from  the  private  letter 
book  of  Mr.  La  Mar,  as  published  by  John  R.  Spears,  entitled 
"The  American  Slave  Trade,"  to  show  in  a  single  instance 
to  what  extent  the  slave  trade  was  being  carried  on  within 
our  own  states,  after  having  been  for  forty  years  declared 
piracy. 

Up  to  the  very  year  of  the  Civil  War,  Admiral  Perry  was 
reporting  to  our  Secretary  of  the  Navy  that  he  had  seen  no 
slavers  upon  the  African  coast,  and  did  not  think  there  had 
been  any  there  for  several  years.  True,  now  and  then  a 
slaver  had  been  caught,  but  never  until  after  the  election  of 
Mr.  Lincoln  had  one  been  hung.  Of  that  one  I  will 


African 


speak.  The  last  sad  story  of  American  slavers  as  narrated 
by  Stearns,  from  which  this  statement  is  briefly  summar- 
ized, is  this: 

In  the  summer  of  1861,  Captain  Nathaniel  Gordon,  a 
native  of  Portland,  Maine,  took  his  ship,  "The  Erie"  to 
New  York,  obtained  a  portion  of  his  supplies,  then  sailed 
to  Havana,  completed  his  outfit,  and,  sailing  to  the  African 
coast,  went  up  the  river  forty  miles,  where  she  discharged  a 
cargo  of  liquors,  and  after  fitting  the  vessel  for  their  recep- 
tion, came  down  to  the  mouth  of  the  Congo  and  took  on 
board  a  cargo  of  890  slaves,  of  whom  but  172  were  men  and 
106  were  women,  the  remainder  being  boys  and  girls,  as 
Gordon  deemed  them  safer.  They  might  scream  but  they 
could  not  strike  back.  The  ship,  thus  densely  crowded,  set 
sail  for  Havana  August  7,  1860,  and  while  crowding  all 
sail  was  overtaken  by  the  United  States  Warship  Mohican, 
and  taken  to  New  York,  the  negroes  being  taken  to  Liberia 
and  landed  there.  This  ship  was  sure  to  be  confiscated,  for 
half  of  her  sale  went  to  the  captors.  The  ship  was  sold  for 
$78,239,  half  of  which  went  to  the  ship 's  crew  of  the  Mohican 
as  prize  money.  But  what  about  Gordon,  its  commander? 
It  is  reported  that  this  was  his  third  slave  voyage.  Mr. 
Lincoln  had  been  elected  and  the  Republican  party  was 
now  in  power.  For  forty  years  the  death  penalty  for  this 
crime  had  been  on  the  statute  books,  yet  of  all  the  slave 
smugglers  not  one  had  been  hanged. 

The  first  effort  to  convict  him  resulted  in  a  mistrial,  but 
before  his  second  trial  a  new  party  had  come  into  power 
and  he  was  again  placed  on  trial  November  6,  1861,  Judge 
Nelson  presiding.  The  Civil  War  was  now  commanding 

212 


in  tfje  ftniteti 


the  public  attention.  Gordon  had  once  before  been  tried 
and  the  jury  disagreed,  and  so  little  attention  was  given  to 
the  trial.  On  Friday,  November  8th,  the  arguments  were 
closed,  and  Judge  Nelson  delivered  his  charge  to  the  jury. 
At  seven  o'clock  that  evening  the  jury  retired  and  in 
twenty  minutes  brought  in  the  verdict,  "  Guilty."  Presi- 
dent Lincoln  granted  a  respite  of  two  weeks,  but  refused 
further  to  interfere  in  the  case.  There  was  a  frantic  appeal 
to  the  Governor  of  the  state,  and  the  threatening  of  a  mob, 
but  all  of  no  avail,  and  on  February  21,  1862,  Nathaniel 
Gordon  was  hanged  —  the  first  and  the  last  of  American 
slave  pirates  to  suffer  the  full  penalty  of  the  law. 

During  the  administration  of  President  Buchanan  there 
was  a  very  strong  movement  for  the  purchase  of  Cuba,  for 
the  extension  of  slave  territory,  and  if  Spain  had  consented 
to  the  sale,  such  was  the  preponderance  of  Southern  influence 
in  Congress  that  doubtless  the  transfer  would  have  been 
made  at  a  cost  of  fifteen  million  dollars.  Such  had  become 
the  pressing  demand  for  slaves  that  the  re-opening  of  the 
slave  trade  was  seriously  considered. 

In  November,  1858,  the  following  appeared  in  the  De 
Bows  Journal:  "It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  Southern 
states,  especially  those  in  which  are  grown  the  great  staples 
of  cotton,  sugar,  and  rice,  demand  a  greater  number  of 
negro  laborers  than  can  now  be  secured  by  their  natural 
increase  or  from  those  home  sources  which  have  hitherto 
yielded  but  a  spare  supply."  And  he  proceeds  to  quote  the 
prices  of  slaves  sold  in  the  perfect  market,  at  auction,  as 
follows:  "Able  bodied  men  were  sold  for  $1,836  apiece, 
and  very  indifferent  ones,  the  lowest  for  $640."  As  a  means 

213 


African 


of  relief,  campaign  literature  was  circulated  advising  the 
opening  of  the  slave  trade.  Public  conventions  were  held 
for  the  discussion  of  this  question  At  a  convention  held 
at  Montgomery,  Alabama,  on  the  loth  of  May,  1858,  Mr. 
Spratt  of  South  Carolina,  chairman  of  the  committee  on 
the  slave  trade,  introduced  the  following  resolutions: 

Resolved:  that  slavery  is  right,  and  that  being  true,  there 
can  be  no  wrong  in  the  natural  means  for  its  formation. 

Resolved:  that  it  is  expedient  and  proper  that  the  foreign 
slave  trade  should  be  reopened  and  that  this  convention  will 
lend  its  influence  to  any  legitimate  measure  to  that  end. 

When  the  more  conservative  members  of  the  convention 
questioned  the  adoption  of  the  resolutions,  Mr.  Yancy  said 
to  them:  "If  it  is  right  to  buy  slaves  in  Virginia  and 
carry  them  to  New  Orleans,  why  is  it  not  right  to  buy  them 
in  Cuba  or  Brazil  or  Africa  and  carry  them  there?" 

At  a  convention  held  in  Vicksburg  in  1859,  a  resolution 
was  adopted,  by  a  vote  of  sixty  to  nine,  that  all  laws,  state 
or  federal,  prohibiting  the  African  slave  trade,  ought  to  be 
repealed;  also  that  a  fund  be  raised  to  be  disposed  of  as 
premiums  for  the  best  sermons  advocating  the  re-opening 
of  the  slave  trade.  And  we  can  hardly  blame  these  men, 
who  in  convention  were  passing  these  resolutions,  when 
such  men  as  Alexander  Stephens,  later  Vice-President  of 
the  Southern  Confederacy,  in  bidding  farewell  to  his  con- 
stituency, is  reported  to  have  said:  "Slaves  cannot  be 
made  without  Africans.  I  wish  to  bring  distinctly  to  your 
minds  the  great  truth  that,  without  an  increase  of  African 
slaves,  you  may  not  look  for  more  slave  states."  Mr.  Jeffer- 
son Davis,  one  of  the  largest  slave  holders  in  Mississippi, 

214 


in  tije  dnttefc 


was  opposed  to  the  immediate  opening  of  the  trade,  lest  an 
influx  of  Africans  should  diminish  the  value  of  his  property; 
but  he  hastened  to  add,  "The  interest  of  Mississippi,  not 
of  the  African,  dictates  my  conclusion.  This  resolution 
with  reference  to  Mississippi  is  based  upon  the  present  con- 
dition and  not  on  any  general  theory.  It  is  not  supposable 
to  be  applied  to  Texas,  New  Mexico,  or  any  further  acquisi- 
tions to  be  made  south  of  the  Rio  Grande." 

This  last  expression  is  peculiarly  significant,  revealing 
the  purpose  to  expand  a  Southern  Confederacy  as  the  slave- 
holding  interests  might  require,  after  severance  from  the 
Northern  states  had  been  achieved.  The  time  for  the 
severance  was  at  hand ;  only  a  pretext  was  wanting.  That 
pretext  was  the  election  of  Mr.  Lincoln  to  the  Presidency 
and  the  triumph  of  the  Republican  party.  The  means  put 
forth  for  the  further  extension  of  slavery,  and  the  secession 
of  the  Southern  states,  culminated  in  its  overthrow. 


215 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
ABOLITION  OF  SLAVERY  IN  THE   UNITED   STATES 

IN  judging  the  acts  of  peoples  and  of  nations,  justice 
requires  that  we  carefully  consider  the  age  in  which 
they  lived,  their  environments,  and  the  public  estimate 
of  their  acts.  It  will  be  necessary  to  remember  that  when 
our  progenitors  landed  on  these  shores  they  were  subjects 
of  Great  Britain,  which  was  then  the  leading  nation  en- 
gaged in  the  slave  trade,  and  deriving  her  largest  revenue 
from  that  source.  The  Royal  Family  had  personal  interest 
in  the  trade,  and  the  legitimacy  of  the  business  was  not  yet 
questioned.  And  yet,  both  in  England  and  in  the  Colonies, 
there  were  many  who  regarded  with  abhorrence  the  capture 
and  enslavement  of  human  beings,  however  savage.  This 
innate  opposition  to  human  slavery,  though  very  general, 
had  as  yet  no  organized  method  of  expression.  From  the 
date  of  the  first  purchase  of  slaves,  in  1619,  to  that  when 
our  independence  had  been  achieved,  there  had  been  a 
strong  protest  against  their  introduction  into  this  country. 

During  all  that  period,  the  slave  interests  had  control 
of  the  British  government,  and  the  profits  to  be  derived 
from  the  traffic  depended  largely  upon  the  success  with 
which  slaves  could  be  disposed  of  in  her  various  colonies. 
Of  the  introduction  of  slaves  into  our  Colonies,  Senator 
Wilson  has  written  as  follows : 

"British  avarice  planted  slavery  on  American  soil; 
British  legislation  sanctioned  and  maintained  it;  British 

216 


of  Jrtatoerp  in  rlic  United 


statesmen  sustained  and  guarded  it,  and  under  the  fostering 
care  of  British  legislation  over  three  hundred  thousand 
African  slaves  had  been  imported  into  these  Colonies 
before  the  Revolution.  It  will  be  remembered  that,  while 
our  own  seamen  and  their  vessels  were  engaged  in  this  trade, 
and  were  deriving  immense  profits  therefrom,  they  were 
still  subjects  of  Great  Britain,  subject  to  her  laws  and 
enjoying  her  protection  under  the  British  flag.  When,  in 
1726,  Virginia  levied  a  tax  upon  slaves  brought  from  Africa, 
lest  their  rapid  introduction  might  lessen  the  value  of  her 
own,  and  when,  in  1760,  South  Carolina  did  the  same,  they 
were  sternly  rebuked  by  the  British  government.  In  1712, 
Pennsylvania  protested  against  the  further  introduction  of 
slaves.  In  1771,  Massachusetts  adopted  measures  for  the 
abolition  of  the  slave  trade,  but  she  was  a  British  subject 
and  her  action  was  thwarted  by  Colonial  order." 

And  Madison,  who  later  was  to  be  president,  says: 
"The  British  government  constantly  checked  the  attempt 
of  Virginia  to  put  a  stop  to  this  infernal  traffic." 

Thus  much  is  cited  to  show  how  largely  England  was 
responsible  for  the  introduction  of  slavery,  while  we  were 
yet  colonies.  The  industrious  habits  of  the  Northern 
colonies,  and  the  severity  of  the  Northern  climate  were 
not  such  as  to  encourage  the  importation  of  slaves  in  that 
direction.  But  in  the  South  it  was  otherwise  when  cotton, 
rice  and  sugar  f  began  to  be  cultivated,  yielding  large 
returns,  and  slaves  from  the  tropical  regions  were  especially 
fitted  to  endure  the  arduous  work;  and  when  the  broad 
stretches  of  the  most  fertile  soil  in  the  world  seemed  im- 
patient of  cultivation,  the  inducement  to  employ  slave  labor 

217 


African 


seemed  irresistible.  So  great  were  the  profits  to  be  derived 
therefrom  and  such  were  the  demands  for  the  products  of 
such  toil  as  to  cause  the  system  of  slavery  to  take  deep  root, 
and  demand  recognition  and  protection  as  a  condition  for 
consummating  the  union.  But  such  development  was  not 
without  most  solemn  protest  and  frequent  legislation  in 
many  states.  In  its  "Code  of  Liberties,"  as  early  as  1641, 
the  Colonial  Legislature  of  Massachusetts  enacted  "that 
there  should  never  be  any  bond  slavery  unless  it  be  of 
captives  taken  in  just  wars  or  of  them  who  willingly  sold 
themselves  to  them."  This  seemed  to  intimate  that  Indians 
taken  in  war  might  be  sold  as  slaves. 

To  Rhode  Island  belongs  the  honor  of  first  enacting 
laws  prohibitory  of  slavery  within  its  domain.  It  pro- 
vided that  "no  black  mankind  or  white,  serve  more  than 
ten  years,  or  after  the  age  of  twenty-four  years  should  be 
set  free."  This  was  in  1652,  but  before  this,  in  1646, 
Massachusetts  enacted  that  "if  a  man  steal  a  man  or 
mankind,  he  shall  surely  be  put  to  death."  And  four  years 
later,  Connecticut,  in  its  New  Haven  Colony,  passed  an  act 
making  man-stealing  a  capital  offense. 

During  the  ten  years  preceding  the  Declaration  of 
Independence,  in  which  the  rights  of  men  were  sharply 
discussed,  the  injustice  of  slavery  was  made  more  and  more 
apparent,  and  there  was  a  growing  desire  for  the  extinction 
of  the  slave  trade  and  the  emancipation  of  slaves.  The 
Society  of  Friends  was  the  first  to  take  action  on  this  subject. 
It  began  at  a  yearly  meeting  of  a  small  body  of  German 
Quakers  at  Germantown,  Pennsylvania,  in  1688.  In 
New  England,  the  Quakers,  at  a  monthly  meeting  held  at 

218 


Volition  of  £fatoerp  m  tje  Ctnitdi 

Dartmouth  in  1716,  sent  to  the  Rhode  Island  Quarterly 
Meeting  this  query:  "Whether  it  be  agreeable  with  the 
Friends  of  the  truth  to  practice  slaves  and  keep  them  for  a 
term  of  life." 

That  same  year  the  Quakers,  at  Nantucket,  sent  forth  a 
declaration  that  "it  is  not  agreeable  with  the  truth  for 
Friends  to  purchase  slaves  and  hold  them  for  a  term 
of  life." 

While  the  Friends  were  everywhere  bearing  testimony 
against  slavery,  they  were  by  no  means  alone.  Burling, 
Keith,  Sanford,  Lay,  and  many  others  were  publishing 
pamphlets  and  creating  public  sentiment  for  its  abolition. 
For  twenty  years  following  1746,  John  Woodman  of  New 
Jersey  traversed  the  middle  and  Southern  colonies,  his 
theme  in  his  appeal  to  Christians  being  that  "the  practice 
of  continuing  slavery  is  not  right,  and  that  liberty  is  the 
natural  right  of  all  men  equally." 

John  Wesley,  after  his  visit  to  America,  denounced 
slavery  as  "the  sum  of  all  villainies,  the  vilest  that  ever 
saw  the  sun,"  and  that  men  buyers  are  exactly  on  a  level 
with  men  stealers.  George  Whitfield,  who  traveled  ex- 
tensively in  the  South,  denounced  the  system  in  unmeas- 
ured terms,  declaring  "that  the  masses  of  the  negroes 
were  less  cared  for  than  the  brutes."  Perhaps  the  most 
outspoken  pastor  in  favor  of  emancipation  was  Dr.  Samuel 
Hopkins  of  the  Congregational  Church  in  Newport,  Rhode 
Island.  Newport  was  then  the  great  slave  mart  of  New 
England,  and  there,  from  1770  to  the  outbreak  of  the 
Revolution,  he  threw  himself  body  and  soul  into  the  cause 
of  emancipation  and  the  extinction  of  the  slave  trade.  He 

219 


African 


preached,  he  wrote,  he  visited  from  house  to  house,  in  the 
prosecution  of  his  work. 

He  dictated  the  document  to  the  Continental  Congress 
which  is  said  to  have  been  the  ablest  production  on  that 
subject  which  had  appeared  in  the  English  language. 
It  was  printed  in  pamphlet  form,  and  had  a  large 
circulation  among  public  men,  and  had  a  powerful 
influence  upon  public  opinion.  In  1773,  the  eminent 
surgeon,  Benjamin  Rush,  of  Philadelphia,  also  threw  his 
powerful  influence  in  the  same  direction,  publishing  "An 
address  to  the  inhabitants  of  the  British  settlements  in 
America  on  slave  keeping."  But  most  important  of  all  was 
the  pronouncement  of  the  First  Continental  Congress, 
in  1774,  "that  it  would  neither  purchase  nor  import  slaves 
and  would  wholly  discontinue  the  slave  trade."  The 
arraignment  of  the  British  King  for  forcing  slavery  upon 
the  American  colonies,  as  drafted  by  Jefferson  in  his 
original  draft  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  was 
stricken  out  through  the  influence  of  Georgia  and  South 
Carolina.  But  at  this  period  in  our  history,  leading  states- 
men, both  north  and  south,  including  Washington,  Madison, 
Hamilton,  and  Randolph,  looked  forward  with  confident 
expectation  to  the  eventual  abolition  of  the  slave  trade  and 
slavery. 

The  Pennsylvania  Abolition  Society,  the  first  of  its  kind 
in  the  world,  which  had  been  dormant  during  the  last 
years  of  the  Revolution,  was  resuscitated  at  its  close,  and  for 
the  next  fifty  years  was  the  most  potent  opponent  of  slavery. 
When,  in  1787,  it  revised  its  constitution,  it  took  the  name, 
"The  Society  of  Pennsylvania,  for  Promoting  the  Abolition 


.Abolition  of  £iatoetp  in  tiic  Unitro 

of  Slavery,  the  relief  of  Negroes  Held  in  Bondage,  and  for  the 
Improvement  of  the  African  Race."  Benjamin  Franklin 
was  its  first  president,  and,  by  his  wonderful  sagacity  and 
executive  ability,  was  greatly  instrumental  in  insuring  its 
success.  For  fifty  years  that  society  labored  incessantly 
for  the  suppression  of  the  slave  trade  and  the  abolition  of 
slavery.  It  sent  copies  of  its  constitution  to  the  governors 
of  states  and  to  statesmen  generally.  It  corresponded  with 
prominent  men  in  the  United  States,  in  England,  and 
an  France.  In  1818  it  condemned  the  colonization  scheme 
is  impracticable.  In  1819  it  appointed  a  committee  to 
watch  the  struggle  for  the  admission  of  Missouri  as  a 
slave  state.  In  1830  it  secured  governmental  aid  for 
colored  schools.  In  1830  it  secured  laws  against  the 
kidnaping  of  negroes. 

In  the  meantime,  the  question  of  slavery  was  a  constant 
theme  of  discussion  in  all  the  North.  The  New  York 
Abolition  Society  was  established  in  1785.  In  that  year 
a  bill  for  gradual  emancipation  was  defeated,  and  it  was 
not  until  1779  that  the  bill  was  passed.  In  1789  the 
Rhode  Island  Society  was  formed.  In  1790  a  like  society 
was  formed  in  Connecticut,  and  in  1792  an  Abolition  Society 
was  organized  in  New  Jersey. 

During  all  these  years  slavery  was  taking  firm  hold 
in  all  the  Southern  states.  The  question  of  profits  out- 
weighed all  other  considerations,  and  even  the  morality  of 
slavery  was  argued  on  biblical  grounds.  The  independence 
of  the  colonies  was  acknowledged  in  1782.  Then  came  the 
years  of  national  construction.  As  the  result  of  the  treaty 
with  Great  Britain,  our  territorial  limits  were  extended  to 


African 


the  east  bank  of  the  Mississippi  River,  and  by  our  purchase 
of  Louisiana,  in  1803,  the  line  was  further  extended  to  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  Long  and  fierce  was  the  struggle  as 
to  the  admission  of  slavery  into  this  vast  territory.  By 
the  ordinance  of  1787  it  had  been  excluded  from  the 
territory  north  and  west  of  the  Ohio  River.  As  the  result 
of  the  contest,  for  the  time,  the  question  was  set  at  rest  by 
the  agreement  that  all  the  lands  north  of  34°  30'  latitude 
should  be  free  territory. 

In  the  convention  which  assembled  to  form  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  United  States,  there  were  many  and  serious 
questions  to  be  considered.  The  commercial  relations  of 
states  with  states  and  with  foreign  powers  were  to  be 
adjusted;  the  relations  of  the  smaller  states  to  the 
larger  hi  entering  the  Union;  the  question  of  represen- 
tation in  Congress;  and  the  adjustment  of  legislative, 
judicial,  and  executive  powers  — all  called  for  most  profound 
consideration;  but,  beyond  and  transcending  all  others, 
was  the  bitter  struggle  in  the  determination  of  state 
rights,  particularly  as  these  pertained  to  the  states'  con- 
trol of  the  question  of  slavery,  and  of  their  representation 
in  Congress. 

Georgia  and  South  Carolina  utterly  refused  to  enter  the 
Union  unless  their  own  control  of  their  slaves  was  per- 
mitted, the  discussions  being  long  and  acrimonious.  The 
question  narrowed  down  to  this:  "Anarchy  or  the  admis- 
sion of  slave  states,"  and,  as  the  result  of  the  bargain,  the 
South  won  out.  The  struggle  for  slave  representation  in 
Congress  was  especially  protracted,  and  finally  settled  on 
a  three-fifths  basis.  The  ultimatum  was  reached  when 


Volition  of  £latep  in  tf>e 


General  Davis  of  North  Carolina  stated  to  the  convention 
that  his  state  would  never  confederate  on  any  terms  that 
did  not  give  to  their  slaves  a  three-fifths  representation. 
He  said:  "If  the  eastern  men  mean  to  exclude  them  alto- 
gether, then  the  business  is  at  an  end."  This  was  the 
second  victory  for  the  slave  holders.  t 

In  1792,  Congress  passed  a  bill  for  the  rendition  of 
fugitive  slaves.  In  the  meantime,  the  limit  of  the  foreign 
slave  trade  had  been  extended  to  the  year  1808;  besides, 
slaves  were  being  smuggled  in  from  the  West  Indies  at 
the  rate  of  fifteen  thousand  a  year,  while  the  State  of 
Virginia  became  such  a  breeder  of  slaves  as  to  furnish  them 
for  the  southern  market  at  the  rate  of  forty  thousand  a 
year. 

For  a  number  of  years  after  the  adoption  of  the  Missouri 
Compromise,  in  1830,  there  was  a  lull  in  the  excitement 
with  reference  to  the  extension  of  slavery.  Men  seemed 
willing  to  purchase  peace  at  any  price.  The  great  body  of 
conservative  men  lent  their  influence  to  the  scheme  of 
colonization.  This  was  not  especially  inimical  to  the 
South,  for  it  provided  a  way  for  the  export  of  free  negroes 
who  were  a  menace,  and  the  riddance  of  others  who,  from 
age  or  impotency,  were  a  burden  that  could  be  thus  well 
disposed  of. 

But  there  were  others,  not  a  few,  who  held  the  whole 
business  of  slave  trading  and  slave  holding  to  be  a  crime 
against  God  and  man,  and  would  have  no  fellowship  with 
slavery  in  any  form  whatever.  Of  these  an  extended  history 
has  been  given  in  the  publications  by  Elias  Hicks,  which 
he  began  in  1814.  At  that  time  there  was  a  strong  anti- 

223 


African 


slavery  feeling  manifesting  itself  in  Tennessee  and  Kentucky, 
and  many  planters  crossed  the  Ohio  River  that  they  might 
free  their  slaves  on  northern  soil.  Despite  all  compromise 
and  all  legislation,  the  question  of  slavery  was  never  at  rest. 

Among  the  New  England  abolitionists,  the  name  of 
William  Goodell  stands  prominent.  In  1820  he  published 
a  series  of  anti-slavery  articles  in  the  Providence  Gazette, 
and  for  thirty  years  after,  was  connected  with  the  anti- 
slavery  press.  But  in  those  early  days,  between  the  years 
1815  and  1830,  the  name  of  Benjamin  Lundy,  a  New 
Jersey  Quaker,  transcends  all  others.  His  intense  horror 
of  the  slave  trade  in  Wheeling,  Virginia,  as  he  met  it  there, 
it  being  one  of  the  most  prominent  slave  marts  in  the 
state,  incited  him  to  action,  and,  though  he  was  a  pros- 
perous tradesman,  he  gave  his  life-work  to  the  cause  of 
abolition,  a  name  then  everywhere  detested.  He  married 
and  settled  in  Ohio,  and  in  1815,  in  his  own  house,  called 
together  his  friends  and  organized  "The  Union  Humane 
Society."  He  traveled  far  and  wide,  organizing  auxiliary 
societies  wherever  he  went.  He  worked  heroically  in 
Illinois  and  in  Missouri.  He  went  to  St.  Louis  and  entered 
into  that  struggle,  using  the  press  as  his  chief  method  of 
warfare.  But  his  influence  did  not  stop  there.  William 
Lloyd  Garrison,  who  later  was  to  be  the  most  ardent 
champion  of  the  slave,  had  this  to  say: 

"Now  if  I  have,  in  any  humble  way,  done  anything  in 
calling  attention  to  slavery,  and  bringing  about  the  glorious 
prospect  of  a  complete  jubilee  in  our  country  at  no  distant 
day,  I  feel  that  I  owe  everything  in  the  matter,  instru- 
men tally  and  under  God,  to  Benjamin  Lundy." 

224 


abolition  of  £iatoetp  in  rljc  United 

In  1828  he  visited  New  England,  and  traveled  on  foot 
to  find  Mr.  Garrison,  then  editing  a  paper  in  Vermont,  and 
persuade  him  to  join  him  in  the  conduct  of  "The  Genius 
of  Emancipation."  Mr.  Garrison  says:  "He  came,  staff 
in  hand,  and  had  traveled  all  day  to  the  Green  Mountains. 
He  came  to  lay  it  on  my  heart,  my  conscience  and  my 
soul,  that  I  should  join  him  in  this  work  of  seeing  the 
abolition  of  slavery." 

Mr.  Garrison,  whose  sympathies  were  already  aroused 
in  that  direction,  further  says:  "He  so  presented  the  case 
that  I  said  to  him, '  I  will  join  you  as  soon  as  my  engagements 
here  are  ended,  and  then  we  will  see  what  can  be  done. '  ' 

Mr.  Lundy  labored  with  a  zeal  worthy  of  his  cause, 
founding  anti-slavery  papers  successively  at  different  points, 
enlisting  Mr.  Garrison  and  Mr.  Whittier  in  the  editorial 
management.  He  died,  while  valiantly  vindicating  the  cause 
of  the  oppressed,  at  the  early  age  of  fifty  years,  but  his 
greatest  achievement  was  the  discovery  and  enlistment  of 
William  Lloyd  Garrison  upon  whom  his  mantle  fell. 

Of  Mr.  Garrison  it  is  not  needful  to  write.  He  has  made 
history  that  will  be  imperishable.  But  in  those  earlier 
days  it  may  be  well  said  of  him  that  "He  was  a  man 
despised  and  rejected,  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted 
with  grief."  He  was  imprisoned  for  his  utterances,  and 
a  reward  of  five  thousand  dollars  was  offered  for  the 
deliverance  of  his  head  in  Georgia.  His  writings  first 
appeared  in  the  Free  Press  published  in  Newburyport, 
Massachusetts,  next  in  the  National  Philanthropist  in 
Boston,  then  in  the  Journal  of  the  Times  in  Bennington, 
Vermont,  then  the  Genius  of  Universal  Emancipation 

225 


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at  Baltimore,  and  finally  in  The  Liberator  which  he 
published  in  Boston  for  thirty-five  years,  until  slavery  was 
abolished.  Mr.  Garrison  lectured  in  all  the  principal 
cities  of  the  Northern  states.  For  his  utterances  in  Balti- 
more, he  was  imprisoned  and  after  six  weeks  was  liberated, 
Mr.  Arthur  Tappan,  of  New  York,  paying  his  fine. 

Legislation  and  threats  were  used  to  prevent  the  publica- 
tion of  The  Liberator  in  the  South,  and  the  mails  were  closed 
against  it.  But  in  the  meantime,  the  abolition  cause 
was  taking  root  and  gaining  strength  in  all  the  Northern 
states.  Within  nine  years  from  the  establishment  of  The 
Liberator,  nearly  two  thousand  anti-slavery  societies  had 
been  formed,  with  a  membership  of  two  hundred  thousand. 
The  abolition  movement  finally  encountered  the  opposition 
of  the  American  Colonization  Society,  and,  from  that 
source,  some  were  led  to  counsel  violence.  The  free  blacks 
held  conventions  and  pleaded  that  where  their  fathers 
had  fought  in  the  Revolution  and  where  they  had  been 
born,  they  might  die  and  be  buried.  Arthur  Tappan  at 
length  withdrew,  and  declared  that  the  effect  of  the  coloni- 
zation scheme  was  one  of  perpetual  slavery. 

The  New  England  Anti-Slavery  Society  was  formed 
in  the  office  of  Samuel  E.  Sewell,  a  young  lawyer  in  Boston, 
December  16,  1831,  Arnold  Buffam  being  the  first  president 
and  William  Lloyd  Garrison,  corresponding  secretary. 
The  first  public  meeting  was  held  in  Essex  Street  Church, 
Boston,  January  29,  1832.  The  address  was  made  by  the 
Reverend  Moses  Thatcher,  who  declared  its  object  to  be 
"neither  war  nor  sedition.  The  influence  must  be  that 
of  moral  suasion,  not  of  coercion." 

226 


Abolition  of  £latoerp  in  tlic  Umtefc 

The  number  of  slaves  held  at  that  time  was  estimated 
at  two  and  a  half  millions.  Public  opinion  was  intensely 
strong  against  the  abolition  movement.  David  B.  Ogden, 
a  leader  of  the  New  York  bar,  called  them  fanatics  and 
opposed  to  the  Constitution.  Theodore  Frelynghuysen 
denounced  the  movement  as  the  wildneso  of  fanaticism. 
But  such  men  as  John  G.  Whittier  and  Amos  A.  Phelps, 
and  the  pen  of  Mrs.  Lydia  Maria  Childs,  were  entering 
into  the  work  of  disseminating  anti-slavery  literature 
and  sending  it  broadcast.  At  this  time  colored  schools 
were  very  generally  denied.  New  Haven  opposed  the 
organization  of  a  collegiate  institute  for  colored  students. 
Noyes  Academy,  which  admitted  colored  students,  was 
broken  up.  The  schoolhouse  where  Miss  Crandall  taught 
colored  children  was  drawn  out  of  town  by  seventy  yoke 
of  cattle,  furnished  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  town. 

In  1833  a  national  anti-slavery  convention  was  held 
in  Philadelphia,  at  which  time  the  National  Anti-Slavery 
Society  was  organized,  an  executive  committee  appointed, 
and  an  office  opened  in  New  York  City.  Arthur  Tappan 
was  president. 

The  Emancipator  was  started  as  the  official  organ  of  the 
society,  and  sustained  by  large  personal  subscriptions, 
Mr.  Tappan  contributing  one  thousand  dollars;  in  rapid 
succession  sixteen  hundred  auxiliaries  were  added  to  the 
parent  society,  with  a  membership  of  nearly  a  quarter  of  a 
million. 

The  first  anniversary  of  the  society  was  held  in  New  York, 
in  May,  1834,  when  the  home  of  Arthur  Tappan  was  broken 
open  by  a  mob.  The  whole  country  now  began  to  feel  the 

227 


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influence  of  these  societies,  far  and  wide,  and  Congress  was 
deluged  with  petitions,  praying  for  the  abolition  of  slavery 
in  the  District  of  Columbia  and  its  restriction  from  the 
territories.  Year  by  year  the  number  of  petitioners  rapidly 
increased  until,  between  1837  and  1839,  two  million  signa- 
tures were  sent  to  Congress. 

In  1832,  Theodore  Weld,  a  noted  abolition  lecturer,  went 
to  Huntsville,  Alabama,  as  the  guest  of  James  G.  Birney, 
a  lawyer  and  slave  holder,  and  laid  the  whole  subject  before 
him.  Mr.  Birney  had  been  an  advocate  of  the  coloniza- 
tion scheme.  The  result  was  that,  in  1833,  Mr.  Birney 
became  an  out-and-out  abolitionist,  made  his  home  in 
Danville,  Kentucky,  and  there  emancipated  his  slaves. 
He  prepared  to  start  an  anti-slavery  paper  in  Danville, 
but  was  forbidden  to  make  the  attempt.  He  removed  to 
Cincinnati  for  that  purpose,  and  there  his  persecution 
began.  On  June  12,  1838,  his  press  was  broken  up,  and 
handbills  were  posted  in  Cincinnati,  offering  a  reward  for 
his  apprehension  and  delivery  in  Kentucky.  A  committee 
of  citizens  of  Cincinnati  was  called  in  July,  1836,  to  deter- 
mine whether  an  abolition  paper  should  be  published  in 
that  city,  and,  as  the  result,  a  mob  threw  Mr.  Birney's 
press,  upon  which  he  was  printing  The  Philanthropist, 
into  the  river.  This  was  repeated  three  times,  but  The 
Philanthropist  continued  to  be  issued.  The  making  of 
abolitionists  continued,  and  men  of  wealth  and  social 
position  were  found  to  encourage  it.  The  more  the  favor- 
able sentiment  grew,  the  more  bitter  was  its  opposition. 
The  use  of  Faneuil  Hall,  the  " Cradle  of  Liberty,"  was 
refused  for  the  holding  of  an  anti-slavery  meeting.  Wher- 

228 


&6ofttion  of  £taberp  in  tfjc  aniteti 


ever  abolitionists  proclaimed  their  sentiments,  they  were 
denounced  in  unmeasured  terms. 

George  Thompson,  the  champion  of  British  emancipa- 
tion, came  to  this  country  and  lectured  extensively  and 
very  effectively.  He  was  mobbed  in  Plymouth  County, 
and  rescued  by  friends  in  Boston.  In  1835,  Mr.  Garrison 
was  seized  by  a  mob  in  Boston,  and  a  rope  put  around  his 
neck.  He  was  put  in  jail  to  rescue  him  from  its  fury. 
During  that  same  year,  a  meeting  of  the  New  York  Anti- 
Slavery  Society,  which  convened  at  Utica,  was  broken  up, 
and,  at  the  invitation  of  Garrett  Smith,  completed  its 
sessions  under  his  protection  at  Peterborough.  There  was 
a  riot  in  the  staid  little  city  of  Montpelier,  Vermont,  and  a 
little  later,  and  on  the  same  day,  there  were  mobs  in  Boston, 
Utica,  and  Burlington.  Mr.  Henry  B.  Stan  ton  was  one  of 
the  most  noted  abolition  lecturers.  He  delivered  over  one 
thousand  lectures  in  New  England  and  New  York,  and 
one  hundred  and  fifty-three  of  these  were  broken  up  by 
mobs. 

Pennsylvania  Hall,  dedicated  to  free  speech,  was  formally 
opened  on  May  14,  1838.  It  had  been  built  at  a  cost  of 
forty  thousand  dollars,  and  in  it  the  friends  of  the  slave  were 
not  to  be  denied  a  public  hearing.  At  the  dedication, 
David  Paul  was  the  orator  and  Mr.  Whittier  was  the  poet. 
Three  nights  later  a  mob  assembled  at  the  place,  and  the 
building  was  burned  to  the  ground. 

At  this  time,  there  was  a  warfare  in  Congress  on  the  right 
of  petition,  and  from  that  time  on,  John  Quincy  Adams,  "  the 
Old  Man  Eloquent,"  was  for  years  its  champion  and  defend- 
er, while  furious  "fire-eaters  "  raged  around  him.  The  most 

229 


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drastic  laws  were  enacted  in  the  South  to  prevent  the 
transmission  of  incendiary  documents  through  the  mails. 
General  Jackson,  in  his  annual  message  to  Congress  in 
December,  1834,  denounced  the  abolition  movement  in 
unmeasured  terms,  which  received  a  most  scathing  reply, 
ten  days  later,  from  the  organ  of  the  American  Anti-Slavery 
Society.  In  1836,  the  Democratic  party,  at  the  North, 
united  with  a  nearly  united  South  and  gave  Martin  Van 
Buren  an  overwhelming  majority  as  the  successor  of 
General  Jackson,  and  his  administration  was  conspicuous 
for  its  obsequiency  to  the  South. 

The  nation  was  startled  by  the  news  that,  at  Alton, 
Illinois,  on  the  yth  of  November,  1837,  Elijah  P.  Love  joy 
had  been  killed,  thus  becoming  the  first  martyr  in  the 
anti-slavery  struggle.  It  seems  singular  that  a  meeting 
should  have  been  called  at  Faneuil  Hall  in  Boston  to 
condone  that  outrage,  but  it  was  serving  the  cause  better 
than  it  knew,  for  in  reply  to  the  commendatory  addresses, 
it  brought  to  the  platform  a  man  hitherto  unknown  as  an 
orator,  no  less  a  man  than  Wendell  Phillips.  He  gave  the 
obsequious  crowd  a  scathing  which  was  never  forgotten, 
and  which  startled  his  hearers  as  he  denounced  the  op- 
pressors and  paid  his  withering  attention  to  their  obse- 
quious apologists  there  present.  He  was  the  man  for  the 
hour,  and  at  once  became  famous  throughout  the  land  as 
the  most  eloquent  champion  of  freedom. 

It  was  at  this  date  that  I  began  to  have  some  little 
appreciation  of  the  anti-slavery  movement,  for  the  death  of 
Lovejoy  produced  a  thrill  of  excitement  through  the 
whole  country,  since  free  speech  in  the  State  of  Illinois,  as 

230 


of  £fotoerp  in  tye  antteti 


well  as  the  anti-slavery  movement,  were  thus  assailed;  and 
the  masses  of  our  northern  people  began  to  discuss  the 
question  as  to  what  extent  such  encroachment  upon  their 
liberties  might  be  permitted,  with  liberty  of  speech  denied. 

My  personal  knowledge  of  negroes  and  of  negro  slavery 
though  limited,  dates  from  very  early  childhood,  when  an 
uncle  of  mine,  who  had  become  a  planter  in  the  South, 
came  North  to  visit  his  parents,  accompanied  by  his  wife 
and  a  little  servant  boy  named  Dan.  Very  few  people  in 
our  community  had  ever  seen  a  negro  before,  and  Dan  was 
as  much  of  a  curiosity  as  though  he  had  been  a  monkey. 
He  was  not  over  ten  years  old,  and  soon  became  very  vain 
from  the  curiosity  which  he  excited,  and,  feeling  his  im- 
portance, in  his  plantation  dialect  boasted  of  his  money 
value.  He  said:  "My  massa  won't  take  five  hundred 
dollars  for  me.  My  massa  ax  six  hundred  dollars."  His 
funny  sayings  became  bywords  among  our  boys,  and  this 
speech  fixed  the  price  of  a  slave  upon  my  mind,  although 
I  was  only  six  years  old. 

The  first  question  touching  the  subject  of  slavery  that 
I  ever  heard  was  asked  by  my  dear  old  grandmother,  who 
had  a  tender  heart  and  always  had  an  open  hand  for  the 
poor.  It  was  this:  "0  Samuel,  how  can  you  bear  to  buy 
those  poor  creatures?"  To  which  he  replied,  "We  keep 
them  in  families,  and  they  are  far  better  off  when  they 
have  somebody  to  care  for  them."  But  I  could  see  from 
my  grandmother's  looks  that  her  inborn  sense  of  justice 
was  hardly  satisfied.  It  was  only  a  chance  conversation, 
which  I  overheard  when  I  was  a  little  child,  but  it  was  never 
forgotten  and  more  fully  appreciated  later. 

231 


African 


The  beginning  of  my  knowledge  of  the  slavery  question 
dates  from  the  year  1836,  when  I  was  thirteen  years  old, 
and  when  Mr.  Ornon  Archer,  a  graduate  of  Williams 
College,  came  to  our  village,  Romeo,  Michigan,  to  establish 
the  Romeo  Academy.  He  had  resided  previously  in 
Utica,  New  York,  and  was  a  warm  admirer  of  the  noted 
abolitionist,  Garrett  Smith,  whose  name  was  everywhere 
in  bad  repute  and  spoken  against.  Mr.  Archer  was  an 
ardent  abolitionist  and  the  outspoken  friend  of  the  slave, 
and  the  slavery  question  was  about  as  regularly  discussed 
at  our  table  as  our  meals  were  served. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  expression  which  came  over 
Mr.  Archer's  face  when,  as  we  were  sitting  at  the  table, 
some  one  came  and  stated  that  E.  P.  Love  joy  had  been 
murdered.  Looking  down  upon  his  plate  as  though  his 
eye  would  pierce  it  through,  and  oblivious  to  all  else,  he 
said  in  a  low,  impressive  tone:  "That  shot  is  the  beginning 
of  the  end  of  slavery."  I  was  old  enough,  at  this  time, 
to  appreciate  the  bitter  prejudice  that  was  abroad  against 
the  word  "abolition,"  and  to  know  that  to  be  an  abolition- 
ist was  to  be  classed  as  a  fanatic  of  the  baser  sort.  This  fact 
was  apparent  in  our  own  community,  though  much  less  so 
among  our  better  people,  while  even  a  few  were  sympa- 
thizers. 

For  several  years  it  was  apparent  that  the  anti-slavery 
movement  was  steadily  gaining  ground,  and  those  high  in 
authority  were  strongly  set  against  it.  In  his  last  message 
to  Congress,  General  Jackson  took  occasion  to  denounce  it 
in  unmeasured  terms,  and  when  Mr.  Van  Buren  came  to  the 
Presidency,  in  1836,  he  gave  ample  assurance  to  the  Southern 

232 


of  Jrtatoerp  in  tJje  aniteti 


states  that  the  power  of  the  Government  would  be  exerted, 
to  prevent  any  encroachment  upon  or  interference  with, 
their  domestic  institutions.  But  the  alignment  was  fast 
being  made  between  those  who  would  thus  prevent  any 
interference  with  slavery  and  those  who  were  opposed  to 
the  further  extension  of  slavery  and  claimed  the  right  to 
petition  Congress  to  that  effect.  For  years  that  right  was 
constantly  affirmed  by  the  North  and  still  more  vehemently 
denied  by  the  South. 

The  heroic  defense  of  the  right  of  petition  by  John  Quincy 
Adams,  "the  Old  Man  Eloquent,"  forms  one  of  the  most 
interesting  and  exciting  chapters  in  the  history  of  the 
abolition  movement.  The  struggle  which  had  culminated 
in  emancipation  in  England  was  now  to  have  its  parallel 
on  American  soil,  and  each  was  to  be  successful  —  the  one  by 
peaceful  means  and  timely  legislation,  the  other  by  the 
terrible  abitrament  of  civil  war.  In  the  progress  of  the 
great  struggle  for  emancipation,  the  opposing  forces  seemed 
hopelessly  unequal.  As  in  olden  times,  so  now,  on  the  side 
of  the  oppressors  there  was  power  —  power  in  a  sub- 
servient Congress;  power  in  all  the  marts  of  trade, 
power  in  foreign  courts,  by  reason  of  able  ambassadors, 
carefully  selected  to  conserve  Southern  interests;  power 
by  the  very  general  racial  prejudice  existing  at  the  North. 
Besides  these,  personal  indifference  was  to  be  overcome, 
and,  more  than  this,  the  feeling  that  abhorred  conflict  and 
was  willing  to  purchase  peace  at  almost  any  price,  provid- 
ing it  did  not  jeopardize  personal  interests.  Such  in  the 
aggregate  were  the  influences  which  confronted  the  anti- 
slavery  movement.  Only  a  single  question  confronted 

233 


African 


them.  It  was  "the  injustice  of  oppression  and  the  right 
of  man  to  his  freedom."  That  right  must  be  vindicated,  or 
the  very  foundations  of  our  government  must  give  way  and 
our  Declaration  of  Independence  become  a  hissing  and  a 
byword.  Next  to  the  greatest  moral  issue  the  world  has 
ever  known  was  at  stake,  and  to  the  everlasting  honor  of 
our  nation  the  moral  question  triumphed.  The  manner 
in  which  this  was  accomplished  may  be  stated  in  few 
words. 

The  Anti-Slavery  National  Association,  which  was  or- 
ganized in  1833,  was  conducting  its  work  on  strictly  moral 
grounds  when  there  was  a  split  in  the  party,  and  while 
Garrison  and  his  followers  strongly  protested,  the  other 
party  entered  the  political  arena.  It  numbered  such 
men  as  James  G.  Birney,  a  former  slave  holder,  Arthur  Tap- 
pan,  Gerrit  Smith,  John  G.  Whittier,  Edward  Beecher, 
John  Jay,  and  Thomas  Morris.  This  branch  met  in  a 
convention  at  Warsaw,  New  York,  in  November,  1839 
and  nominated  James  G.  Birney  for  president.  In  April, 
1840,  a  national  convention  was  called  in  New  York  City. 
The  nomination  of  Birney  was  confirmed  and  the  organiza- 
tion took  the  name  of  the  Liberty  Party. 

Notwithstanding  the  prejudice  which  existed  against  the 
movement,  its  friends  were  able  to  poll  7059  votes  at  the 
presidential  election  in  1840.  In  August,  1844,  it  held 
another  convention,  again  nominated  Birney  for  President, 
cast  a  vote  of  62,200  at  the  presidential  election,  and,  by 
defeating  Henry  Clay,  secured  the  election  of  James  K.  Polk 
and  the  admission  of  Texas  to  the  Union. 

As  a  purely  abolition  party  its  friends  deemed  a  separate 

234 


of  ^Intocrp  in  the  Unitcfc 


organization  no  longer  advisable,  since  the  question  of 
slavery  was  now  paramount  in  both  the  great  political 
parties;  and  so,  in  1848  and  185  2,  it  cast  its  vote  with  the  new 
Free  Soil  party.  This  Free  Soil  party  was  organized 
as  the  result  of  a  split  in  the  Democratic  party  in  the 
State  of  New  York,  and  Martin  Van  Buren  was  nominated 
for  President.  Its  platform  was  "Free  soil,  free  speech, 
free  labor  and  free  men." 

The  defection  of  the  Democratic  party  in  New  York  was 
so  great  in  1848  as,  by  a  union  with  the  Free  Soil  party,  to 
carry  the  State  of  New  York  and  elect  General  Taylor  as 
President.  The  election  of  Franklin  Pierce  in  1852  was 
a  signal  triumph  for  the  South,  as  was  also  that  of  James 
Buchanan  in  1856,  both  of  whom  were  subservient  to  South- 
ern interests.  I  was  an  ardent  admirer  of  Henry  Clay,  and 
in  1844,  as  a  member  of  the  Romeo  Brass  Band,  attended 
many  political  conventions,  and  was  so  confident  of  his 
election  that  his  defeat  brought  unbidden  tears  to  my  eyes. 
I  lacked  a  year  of  being  old  enough  to  vote,  but  I  was  just 
as  ardent  for  all  that,  and  I  blamed  the  Free  Soil  party 
with  all  the  hate  there  was  in  me.  For  with  the  election  of 
Polk,  the  admission  of  Texas  as  a  slave  state  was  assured, 
the  increase  of  slave  territory  seemed  beyond  bounds,  and 
the  future  of  a  free  government  to  be  at  an  end  and  hopeless. 

But,  in  a  way  unknown  to  all,  the  extreme  energies  put 
forth  both  by  the  North  and  South  were  conspiring  to 
one  sad  result.  Four  years  of  civil  war  at  a  cost  of  nearly 
two  million  men  and  billions  of  money  were  to  be  the  price 
of  the  contest.  The  secession  of  the  slave  states  had  long 
been  seriously  considered  by  Southern  statesmen,  and  the 

235 


African 


project  had  been  so  far  advanced  as  only  to  await  the 
election  of  a  Republican  President  to  warrant  that  act. 

Pending  that  election,  the  excitement  in  the  whole  coun- 
try was  simply  terrific.  In  the  halls  of  Congress  it  was 
painful  in  the  extreme.  Sumner  was  smitten  down  with  a 
bludgeon,  violence  was  ready  to  break  forth  at  any  moment, 
and  secession  was  on  every  lip.  President  Buchanan  in 
his  vain  hope  to  placate  the  South  had  given  his  most 
important  Cabinet  appointments  to  Southern  men.  As 
the  result  our  navy  had  been  ordered  to  the  most  distant 
seas,  and  the  contents  of  our  naval  arsenals  transferred 
to  Southern  stations.  A  deep-laid  plan  had  been  matured 
for  the  development  of  a  great  Southern  confederacy  which 
should  embrace  northern  Mexico,  California,  Cuba,  and 
possibly  a  part  of  Brazil.  Cotton  would  ensure  recognition 
by  England;  Southern  ambassadors  had  well  prepared 
the  way  in  foreign  courts,  and  it  only  awaited  the  signal 
from  Southern  leaders  to  attempt  the  secession  of  their  states 
from  the  Union  and  establish  the  Southern  Confederacy, 
in  which  slavery  was  to  be  the  chief  corner-stone.  The 
crisis  came  and  the  firing  upon  Fort  Sumter  was  the 
signal  to  arms. 


236 


CHAPTER  XXX 
REMEMBRANCES   OF   MR.  LINCOLN 

T  FIRST  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Mr.  Lincoln  in  the 
•••  summer  of  1855.  I  had  not  yet  completed  my  arrange- 
ments for  the  settlement  of  my  family  in  Chicago,  and 
they  were  spending  the  summer  with  friends  in  Battle 
Creek,  Michigan.  I  was  at  that  time  boarding  at  the  Matte- 
son  House,  only  a  block  away  from  the  Court  House.  At 
that  time  there  was  on  trial  one  of  the  most  noted  cases 
which  has  been  adjudicated  in  Illinois.  It  had  to  do  with 
the  settlement  of  land  claims  in  what  was  known  in  Illinois 
as  the  Military  Tract.  In  their  time  the  French  had  made 
land  grants,  to  be  followed  by  others  when  the  English 
gained  possession,  and  finally  the  whole  country  east  of 
the  Mississippi  passed  under  the  control  of  the  United 
States  at  the  close  of  the  Revolutionary  War.  The  present 
owners  were  innocent  purchasers,  and  the  question  was  as 
to  what  extent  the  United  States  could  issue  valid  titles. 
The  trial  lasted  nearly  two  months,  and  nearly  all  the  noted 
legal  talent  in  the  state  had  been  retained  in  the  interest  of 
the  great  number  of  settlers  whose  titles  were  involved. 
A  large  number  of  the  lawyers  were  in  the  habit,  at  the 
noon  adjournment,  of  going  over  to  the  Matteson  House 
and  dining  at  what  was  held  in  reserve  and  known  as  the 
"Lawyer's  table."  It  was  a  famous  gathering  of  men,  and 
when  the  pressure  was  off  and  for  an  hour  they  could  cut 
loose  and  unbend  it  is  needless  to  say  they  never  lost  their 

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opportunity.  Such  sallies  of  wit  and  such  keen  repartee  I 
had  never  before  heard,  nor  have  I  since,  nor  do  I  expect  to 
hear  again.  It  was  my  custom  to  dine  at  the  same  hour, 
and  I  was  not  long  in  selecting  a  side  table  where  I  could 
have  full  view  and  be  within  good  hearing  distance.  There, 
unnoticed,  day  after  day,  I  quietly  listened  to  one  of  the 
rare  treats  of  a  lifetime.  No  one  could  at  that  time  dream 
of  what  was  to  be  the  future  career  of  that  wonderful  man, 
but  even  then  Mr.  Lincoln  was  one  of  the  most  conspicuous 
in  that  group  of  eminent  men,  and  no  dinner  seemed  com- 
plete until  he  had  been  heard  from.  His  very  gentleness 
made  him  great,  and  as  for  stories  that  would  convulse  the 
crowd  he  had  no  equal.  It  was  thus  that  I  came  to  know 
much  of  Mr.  Lincoln  that  I  could  have  learned  in  no  other 
way. 

I  next  had  the  opportunity  of  hearing  him  as  a  public 
speaker.  It  was  during  that  same  summer.  The  land  case 
had  at  length  been  concluded,  and  Mr.  Lincoln  had  con- 
sented to  make  a  public  address  upon  the  political  situation 
of  the  country.  He  spoke  in  Dearborn  Park  where  the 
public  library  is  now  located.  It  will  be  remembered 
that  Mr.  Douglas  had  effected  the  repeal  of  the  "Missouri 
Compromise, "  and  Chicago  was  Mr.  Douglas '  home.  It 
was  during  the  administration  of  President  Pierce,  and  with- 
in a  year  of  the  time  when  General  Fremont  was  to  be  de- 
feated by  Mr.  Buchanan,  when  the  Whig  party  was  to  be 
dissolved  and  the  Republican  party  was  to  take  its  place. 
Mr.  Lincoln,  amidst  most  adverse  conditions,  had  been  a 
stanch  old  line  Whig;  but  even  now  his  far-discerning  eye 
foresaw  the  formation  of  a  new  party  committed  to  present 

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Remembrance^  of  ^lr»  Stincoln 


issues.  Then  the  paramount  question  which  eclipsed  all 
others  was  that  of  the  further  extension  of  slave  territory. 
"No  more  slave  states  and  no  slave  territory"  was  every- 
where in  the  North  becoming  the  battle  cry.  Mr.  Lincoln 
had  at  this  date  fully  identified  himself  with  the  new  move- 
ment, and  more  than  any  other  man  in  Illinois  he  was  instru- 
mental in  adjusting  the  differences  between  the  old  line 
Whigs  and  the  new  Republican  party.  Such  was  the 
popularity  to  which  Mr.  Lincoln  had  attained  that  the 
park  was  crowded  to  its  limits.  He  spoke  for  an  hour  and 
a  half,  and  as  I  looked  over  that  vast  audience  I  could  at 
once  perceive  that  his  speech  was  making  a  profound  im- 
pression. Especially  do  I  remember  one  of  his  statements 
which  was  more  of  a  prophecy  than  he  knew:  "This 
Union,"  said  he,  "will  not  be  dissolved.  If  we,  the  North, 
are  outnumbered,  we  '11  still  stick  to  the  old  flag,  and  contest 
every  inch  of  free  territory  from  the  influence  of  slavery. 
But  if  our  brethren  of  the  South  resolve  upon  secession  and 
proceed  so  to  do  it  will  be  our  duty  to  whip  them  in." 
Such  was  the  pitch  to  which  the  audience  had  been  carried 
that  it  went  almost  wild,  as  with  impassioned  utterance 
and  a  gesture  peculiar  to  himself  he  uttered  these  memo- 
rable words. 

My  next  opportunity  of  hearing  Mr.  Lincoln  was  in 
1858,  when  from  the  balcony  of  the  Tremont  House  in 
Chicago  he  held  a  joint  debate  with  Senator  Douglas.  It 
was  a  side  discussion  closely  related  to  the  celebrated  joint 
debates  held  in  various  cities  in  the  state  when  they  were 
each  candidates  for  election  to  the  United  States  Senate. 

The  next  time  I  saw  Mr.  Lincoln  was  at  a  public  recep- 

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African 


tion  given  at  the  White  House,  in  Washington,  in  1863. 
Thousands  were  in  the  procession,  and  to  each  he  gave  a 
welcoming  hand.  But  there  was  a  kind  of  subdued  sad- 
ness behind  his  gentle  smile  which  told  of  the  desperate 
struggles  he  was  making,  while  as  yet  the  issue  was  in 
doubt  as  to  whether  he  could  lead  his  armies  on  to  victory 
without  a  star  being  torn  from  the  flag  and  yet  there  was  a 
grandeur  in  that  sadness  which  only  hope  could  have  inspired. 

Then  came  that  last  sad  hour.  The  assassin  had  done 
his  infamous  work.  Tongues  were  silent;  grief  was  too 
profound  for  utterance.  The  Nation  was  in  tears.  Even 
those  who  had  termed  him  a  despot  were  horrified  now 
that  the  deed  was  done.  On  that  memorable  journey  as 
the  remains  were  being  conveyed  from  Washington  to 
Springfield  they  rested  for  a  while  beneath  the  dome  of  the 
Court  House  in  Chicago,  and  there  I  took  a  last  sad,  linger- 
ing look  at  the  remains  of  the  man  so  wonderful  in  life  — 
now  peaceful  in  the  sleep  of  death.  Even  death  itself  had 
not  yet  effaced  the  benign  expression  of  those  features 
which  was  his  when  pleading  for  the  return  of  his  "mis- 
guided brethren."  Crowds  of  people  from  far  and  near 
came  to  do  him  reverence.  Far  away  on  Michigan  Avenue 
the  line  of  march  was  forming,  and  with  silent  tread  and 
muffled  drums  all  that  day  and  all  that  night  the  procession 
moved,  four  abreast,  until  the  hundreds  of  thousands  had 
taken  their  last  tearful  look  at  that  loved  face.  All  night 
the  silent  throng  was  moving  beside  my  open  window,  and 
hour  by  hour  I  listened  to  that  solemn  tread. 

I  was  only  an  observer  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  but  it  is  one  of  the 
joys  of  my  life  thus  to  have  known  him. 

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UNIVERSITY  OF  ILLINOIS-URBANA 
B.H7436H1  C001 

MEMORIES  OF  EIGHTY  YEARS  CHGO 


